


Dare

by merrythoughts, ReallyMissCoffee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Courtship, Cute, Dating, Dirty Talk, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Roleplay Logs, Sexual Tension, Snark, Spanking, Sweet/Hot, Trashland, as fluffy as we can manage with Steter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-11-05 02:40:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17910416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrythoughts/pseuds/merrythoughts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReallyMissCoffee/pseuds/ReallyMissCoffee
Summary: It all begins when Peter tries to start something with him. Stiles issues a dare that he assumes Peter won't take. Stiles dares Peter to legitimately date him - tocourt himeven. Stiles blatantly states that he's a virgin and he is not, in fact, going to give it up so easily.





	1. Date

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when Merry gets stuck in an airport and watches too many cute things (Alex Strangelove, To All The Boys I've Loved Before and the first episode of Weird City)...   
> ˚✧₊⁎( ˘ω˘ )⁎⁺˳✧༚
> 
> Enjoy our new trashy Steter story! 
> 
> **Disclaimer** : This is another merrythoughts & ReallyMissCoffee production. In case you don't know us, just a heads up: this is written first and foremost as an alternating roleplay between us which doesn't necessarily translate smoothly into an easily digestible or traditional fic format. At times we can be pretentious, repetitive and annoyingly wordy, but we're not going to change so please forgo any "constructive criticism" regarding the format. We are choosing to share our work and if you like it, you like it, if not, press the back button and try something else as we have no interest in attempting to fic-ify our stories.
> 
> Stiles written by Merry ([tumblr](http://merrythought.tumblr.com)) | Peter written by ReallyMissCoffee ([tumblr](http://reallymisscoffee.tumblr.com))

It all begins when Peter tries to start something with him. Stiles issues a dare that he assumes Peter won't take. Stiles dares Peter to legitimately date him - to _court_ _him_ even. Stiles blatantly states that he's a virgin and he is not, in fact, going to give it up so easily. It doesn't matter that, over the years, there just happened to be some lingering appreciative glances between them (aka, sexual tension). It doesn't matter that Stiles has gradually considered Peter to be more than just a creeper zombie wolf. It doesn't matter that Peter seems to now appreciate his ideas every once in a while. Stiles insists that deflowering him is a treat - you know, the whole _ooo aaa virgins_ thing - and that he's worth the energy and investment.

But Peter surprises him. Peter's lips curve and his eyes glint and Peter accepts the challenge.

The next day Peter proves that he's serious and asks for the sheriff's permission to "pursue" Stiles (which is so totally amusing to watch his dad's expression go from shocked to bewildered to suspicious). 

The dates turn out to actually be real dates. Peter takes him out in public. They visit a comic shop and get ice cream one day. The go out for dinner, nothing crazy fancy where Stiles would be uncomfortable and need to dress up. 

One evening Peter actually cooks for him. And then another he cooks steaks for his dad and him (which totally wins his dad over). Peter is still snarky, but he's also charming and oddly sweet at times. It's inevitable that they get to know each other better, too. It gets to the point where one day Stiles finds himself texting Peter before Scott, just to tell him something. Weird.

Almost three weeks pass before Peter even fucking holds his hand. Stiles stares down at the initiated contact and Peter politely reminds him that Stiles had used the word _court_ and that he does indeed intend to do just that. Leave it to Peter to be dedicated.

Few months in, they've progressed to good night or parting kisses and Stiles can tell that Peter knows _exactly_ what he's doing because not each kiss happens to be chaste and family-friendly. 

Some kisses get a little dirty, Peter licking inside his mouth or Peter's hand _almost_ traveling down from his lower back. It's times like those where Stiles pops a boner and tries to crowd into Peter's body. He never gets far because Peter always pulls away and _tuts_ him (looking all-too satisfied knowing that it had been _Stiles_ wanting more). It's now that Stiles wonders if he's bitten off more than he can chew here because it turns out that Peter is a worthy opponent in this.

That night, Peter has walked him out of the apartment complex. Stiles' Jeep is waiting for him, but Stiles is waiting for a kiss because who knows, maybe this night will be the one where they go further.

* * *

Never let it be said that Peter Hale backs down from a challenge. True, few would assume him capable of _this_ particular challenge, but the way that Stiles had phrased it all those months ago had been so perfectly dismissive and amused that Peter had made up his mind right then and there. If there's one thing that Peter loves more than annoying people, it's proving them wrong and rising to the occasion, which he feels he's done with great success over the last few months.

It's not a chore, is the thing. Peter _likes_ surprising people, and in his youth, he'd definitely taken pleasure in doing just that. He knows how to be charming despite the snark, and he knows how to learn a person very well. Admittedly the fire had put a damper on that, and there _is_ a significant issue regarding how the pack sees him, but sexual attraction is simple. It's a good foundation to build on. 

Besides, while this might have started as a bit of a game - and Peter had _delighted_ in Stiles' overt shock over how _well_ Peter could tailor dates specifically to him - this has become less of a game and more of something idly enjoyable in the meantime.

Stiles is... different, is the thing. While this had been a dare initially, Peter has found great enjoyment in the results. Stiles is very expressive, and whenever Peter manages to surprise him, there's such honest wonder and shock in his eyes that Peter can't help a small glow of satisfaction in his own chest. It doesn't hurt that the sheriff - once so suspicious and snarling - now greets Peter as a friend (which annoys Derek to no end). Once, early on, the sheriff had warned him about how to treat his son and Peter had easily replied that he fully intended to court Stiles the way he _deserved_ to be courted.

That had been months ago, and despite the fact that Stiles has more than been ready to invite Peter to his bed for at least the last month, Peter's quite enjoying the little looks that Stiles sends him when they're _not_ on a date. Peter catches him biting his lip some days, and there's a rush of pleasure in Peter's chest whenever Stiles looks at him with unfailing hope during a date, undoubtedly wondering if _this_ will be the night. It's intoxicating to have Stiles want him as much as he does.

It doesn't hurt that they've grown... closer over the last few months. Peter's horrified some days to realize that he's honestly gotten used to Stiles texting him about the most mundane things. Worse is when Peter hasn't gotten a text from him in awhile and starts wondering if something is wrong.

But that's not the case tonight as Peter leads Stiles back out to his Jeep. The scent of roast and handmade fries follows them both out into the faint glow from the streetlights, and Peter notes with clear satisfaction that Stiles looks full, content, and pleased with the way the evening had turned out. The anticipation is rising, but Peter pays it no mind as he walks Stiles out close to his Jeep and then reaches a hand out.

Peter's fingers curl around Stiles', lacing between them the way Stiles has grown used to, and when he catches Stiles' attention, it's with a small smile. 

"I trust you had a good evening. I know I did. Can I count on seeing you again soon?" Peter asks, as he always does, practically a staple at this point. Proper courting never _assumes_ , after all. 

* * *

The roast and fries had been delicious, but that's pretty much the norm now. Peter is a great cook. It's a thing. It's a problem. Stiles honestly thinks Peter should cook all the time, but then that would be a lot of washing. Because, despite actually having a dishwasher at both their places, Peter makes Stiles do the dishes by hand, dry them, and then gingerly put them away. He's a _total_ drag over it, but Stiles supposes that's the cost of Peter cooking.

Peter takes this dare very seriously. The Beta has really stepped into this courtship role, perfecting it to a tee over these months. Stiles is always walked to his Jeep or the door. He's never kept out late either (supernatural emergencies exempt). Peter pays for dinner and movies and their excursions. Peter also gets him gifts. 

One of the strangest things is probably selfies they take chronicling these adventures (despite Peter's eyes not necessarily behaving, and Peter having to get creative with his poses). Stiles has pictures of them on his phone - proof of them going out and dating and stuff.

The kissing is getting to be a problem _now_ because the kissing never goes anywhere. The kissing had been something progressed into so Stiles had just assumed _more_ would also eventually come. 

But it hasn't. At least not yet. Stiles wants to claim that he's used to kissing Peter (or Peter kissing him) - he _should_ be - but yet again he notices himself getting amped up for Peter's customary parting move. Stiles' fingers twitch by his sides, eager to curl into the fabric of Peter's shirt--

And then Peter does one better, interlocking their fingers together and Stiles marvels at how warm Peter's hands are against his skin. Peter delivers his lines effortlessly and it's Stiles who backs himself against the driver's door which has Peter needing to take half a step closer to him lest their hands pull apart. Stiles can be crafty when necessary.

"Yes, I'd sure like that, Peter," Stiles murmurs and he'd hoped that his voice managed to sound more sarcastic, but there's definitely truth there too. "I'd also like you to kiss me like you mean it." 

It's his own little challenge.

* * *

Despite the dare-element to these dates, Peter can't deny the truth inherent in them either. He'd only initially pursued Stiles out of interest and a latent sort of sexual attraction, but over the last few months, Peter has to admit that this is better than he'd ever hoped for. Much as he always drawls out that Stiles _had_ dared Peter to court him properly, Peter is also aware that if it hadn't been for genuine interest, he wouldn't have kept up these dates. 

They may have started as a charade, or an effort to frustrate Stiles, but that's not what they are now. Some days it's still unsettling to realize how far under his skin Stiles has managed to wedge himself, but then Peter looks through the selfies that Stiles sends him after each date and he cares a little less. 

The thing is... Peter knows he could give in. It hasn't just been a few months. They've been at this for over half a year at this point. But a part of him likes the routine, and he _definitely_ enjoys each moment at the end of the night when Stiles turns to him with clear desire in his eyes. Peter's grown accustomed to the scent of his arousal, and really, _is_ there a better feeling for his ego than having Stiles desperately clinging to him in the hopes that maybe this won't be the end of their little embrace? Peter doesn't think so.

Tonight is no different. Stiles, ever one to play the game, takes Peter's hand and steps back against his Jeep, making Peter follow him in order to keep their hands clasped. With a small smirk as Stiles leans back against the colder metal and glass of his Jeep's door, Peter graciously steps in closer, his knees pressing to Stiles' as Peter leans in. His elbow braces itself against Stiles' Jeep, and after Stiles issues his challenge, Peter sends him a thoughtful look.

"Don't I always?" He asks, with a coy little smirk, and then he leans in. 

Instead of the frantic kiss that Stiles is undoubtedly expecting, Peter takes his time. He does live to be other, after all, and it's no fun if he doesn't keep Stiles on his toes. 

So, free hand cupping Stiles' cheek and fingers fanning back through Stiles' hair, Peter leans in and kisses him. It's a soft kiss, but that doesn't mean that it isn't involved. He takes his time with it, coaxing Stiles' lips parted on his own time, and when Peter licks his way into Stiles' mouth, it's with a languid precision. 

He knows what he's doing.

* * *

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't actually supposed to _continue_ , but it's been months now. It's not perfect or normal. It's not like any relationships that Stiles has seen, but it's _something_. It's their thing. It's persisted - _they've_ persisted. Peter hasn't grown bored, not with him nor the challenge. Stiles hasn't gotten creeped out or exasperated - at least not enough to call it quits. 

They're actually friends, not how Scott or Lydia are, but that doesn't mean it's bad. It's just different. Peter is different. Peter is a different creature altogether, but that's what Stiles likes best about the guy. Sure, he's pretentious and owns entirely too many v-neck shirts, but Peter's also wickedly smart and funny, he's cunning and ruthless and not as self-serving as he pretends to be.

So, they're actually dating. _Courting_ , even. It may be an outdated fanciful notion, but Stiles kind of feels like it makes _them_ special because it's so rare these days.

At least, that's how it had been at the start. Stiles enjoys the dates, he really does, but now that it's been months of _just_ a goodnight kiss, Stiles is beginning to get a little stir-crazy, okay. He's always had an active imagination and Peter's kissing has only dumped fuel on the fire. There's been many a time in the shower Stiles has fantasized about what it would be like to have Peter using his mouth on his cock or Peter's mouth _anywhere,_ really. He also wants to get naked with Peter. He's only seen Peter shirtless and it's entirely unfair. Like, they're not going to get married. They're not waiting for marriage. So what's the point?

But it gives Peter ammunition. Stiles gets it. It also amuses Peter to no end to have him disappointed with a half a chub and grumbling as they part. Still, Stiles can't help but hope that as he positions himself to get pinned against his Jeep, that it might be different this time. 

One thing about all the kissing is that Stiles has greatly improved on his technique. So as Peter takes his time, Stiles matches the casual pace, he gives back as good as he gets. He subtly nudges his head into Peter's fingers as Peter strokes through his hair. It feels nice, of course, but that doesn't mean when Peter's tongue slides into his mouth that Stiles doesn't let out a small moan. Things can always get nicer. His own hand grips Peter's hand tighter and he purposefully presses his hips forward, seeking to rub growing hardness against Peter, seeking anything extra.

* * *

Peter doesn't need to be a werewolf to sense Stiles' frustration. Quite frankly, it's one of his favorite things about being with Stiles. As much fun as Peter has antagonizing the rest of the pack, it's the way that Stiles subtly seeks out a deeper kiss before he realizes what he's doing, or the way that he'll stare forlornly at Peter every time he pulls away that really gives Peter satisfaction. It's beyond mere enjoyment at this point and edging right into pride. Peter knows how to kiss. He knows how to slowly work his way into blowing someone's mind just as easily as he knows how to tease someone to within an inch of their life. How fortuitous that he can do both with Stiles. 

Because Stiles is a teenager. Granted, he's nearly in his twenties now, but the hormones say otherwise. Stiles is as insatiable as it's possible to be for someone who's never had sex, especially considering how desperate he is to _have_ it. But despite how easy it would be to give in, despite how badly Peter does want to blow Stiles' mind one day, the build up is so intoxicating, and every time that Stiles moans or pushes closer, or wordlessly asks for more, Peter feels his pride swell thrillingly. 

It's not like Stiles has no autonomy, however. Despite this gentle, mostly-chaste courtship, Peter doesn't stand in his way of pushing every now and then. It's been a week since the last time that Stiles had pushed, so when Peter's kiss deepens and he feels Stiles react in return, Peter allows himself to enjoy it. The cold metal of Stiles' Jeep adds an extra layer of sensation to the moment, particularly with how warm Stiles' body is while pressed up against Peter's front. Yet it's when Stiles' grip tightens and his hips suddenly press forward that Peter is given a delicious choice.

The scent of arousal is like a constant cologne around Stiles, thicker and perfect. Often times, Peter catches others in the pack sending Stiles and his aroused scent incredulous looks, but Peter always breathes it in and savors it, because he knows it's for _him_. Now is no different. He hums a soft sound and presses in closer, caging Stiles in against his Jeep. 

His kiss deepens slowly, until Peter has Stiles' head tilted back against the frame of his Jeep, throat elongated and scent thick. He kisses until he can feel Stiles' hardness pressing insistently against Peter's hip, and while Peter is definitely not unaffected, he does make himself begin to draw back with small, parting kisses aimed to tease. He does like how desperate he can make Stiles.

* * *

Stiles knows that, compared to many of his friends, he's totally a late bloomer in terms of losing his virginity. Well, technically he hasn't even lost it. Yet! But he's on the road and the destination is Boink Town, population Peter and him. Because Peter's going to sex him up, right? Peter wouldn't put all this time in to _not_ fuck him. That'd be crazy. (But Peter _does_ like being extra, if anyone could do it, it would be Peter.)

Stiles would have loved to have been sexed up when he was sixteen. Back then, nothing sounded better than that. Given that he was bi, Stiles had believed that would double his chances, but it had never happened for him. Stiles had never been sexy like Derek or popular like Lydia. And besides, Stiles had been busy trying to get Scott out of scrapes and help his friends and the pack. There hadn't been time.

There's time now, sure. There's been so much damn time. Why haven't they gone any further? Stiles hasn't let himself ask or protest because he doesn't want to give Peter the satisfaction of receiving a, ' _I'm just doing what you asked, Stiles_ ' speech. Peter would love it. Peter's probably waiting for him to crack and Stiles thinks he might be freakin' close because Peter steps in closer and _mmm_ , Peter is fit and hot against him and Stiles can feel that Peter isn't so soft either, so ha! God, he wants to get off with Peter. He wants Peter to touch him. To do something. _Anything_. 

They kiss and Stiles feels dizzy and completely hard and aching in his jeans. And when Peter begins to draw back, Stiles attempts to chase after him (which Peter allows for only a few kisses). But when Peter pulls away and Stiles' eyes open and his lips meet air, he scowls. 

"C'mon Peter," Stiles says (and it vaguely sounds like a whine, but it can't be helped). "When are we gonna go further?"

* * *

Peter loves this. Not just the comfortable little spike of pride at having Stiles chase after each of his kisses when Peter draws back, but also the easy comfort of _being_ slightly hard in his jeans and not being rushed to do anything about it. Peter's not above a little edging, and he's no prude. While he doesn't go out and have sex willy-nilly, he _does_ know what he likes, and he's not shy in going for it when the mood suits him. That he's been touching himself more often these last few months is definitely connected to Stiles, but Peter doesn't care. 

0He likes it. He likes how easy this is, and he _loves_ how easy _Stiles_ is when he gets desperate.

He doesn't need to wonder when that will happen, as when Peter draws back and Stiles chases him with a level of stubborn desperation, Peter's lips pull into the faintest of smirks. Stiles' breathless question is all petulance, practically a whine, and Peter loves the way it sounds. He reaches up, raking his fingers back through his own hair to put it back in place, and he wets his lips, tasting Stiles' lips against his skin. Peter looks him over and the idea sparks - as it often does - before he's fully thought it through.

"When are we going to go further?" Peter asks smoothly, in a low undertone. "When I think you've been _properly_ courted. When I think you _want_ me badly enough." He leans back in, but instead of kissing Stiles' lips, Peter leans in and presses slow, softer kisses just under Stiles' ear, then up, teeth catching the lobe as he eases in closer. "When the _thought_ of me gets you hard. When I could say your name and have you unravel against me..."

Peter's hand slides down between them then. He slowly presses it over the front of Stiles' jeans, enjoying the throbbing of his cock even if Peter isn't touching it directly. It's still somewhat innocent. If you squint. 

"And when that day comes, I'm going to _ruin_ you for anyone else."

* * *

Oh, Stiles knows what Peter wants. He knows that Peter wants him to beg and go all damsel in distress on him. Hell, Stiles can see the appeal of having someone be so desperate that they're pleading for your touch and all whiney about it. Although that really does sound like a bad Harlequin romance novel... But given who Peter is, given the drama and pretentiousness, given the suave facial hair and the attitude Peter's got going on, Stiles thinks it fits. Okay, it's been decided: Peter Hale could _so_ be a character in one of those trashy books... which makes Stiles the girl. Whatever. Nothing wrong with girls.

Stiles knows what he's challenged Peter to do and Stiles is still into Peter working for it - working for _him_ \- but Stiles so so so so wouldn't mind doing a little somethin'-somethin'. Can't they do somethin'? Anything? There's a big menu of sexual stuff available to them that isn't sex, he's sure of it. Stiles could probably list like ten things they could do.

Peter pulls back and smirks, running a hand through his hair and it should be infuriating, but right now it's just... It's actually _hot_. Ugh. How does Peter manage to look so good doing like, everything? Hormones. That's the reason. Blame ze hormones. 

Peter claims that they're going to go further when he's been properly courted (whatever that means). Peter leans back in but no kiss comes - at least not to his mouth. Peter kisses under his ear and Stiles tenses because it feels ridiculously good and strangely erotic to have Peter's mouth somewhere else other than on his lips.

When Peter goes on and just so smoothly talks about the _thought_ of Peter getting Stiles hard and unraveling, Stiles makes a choked sound. He can't help it, okay? He's pretty sure this isn't normal dirty talk, but it's _Peter's_ dirty talk and Stiles likes it.

Stiles also likes Peter's hand wandering down and between them and just the lightest of touches has him inhaling sharply. Maybe Peter will-- Maybe Peter's going to--

_'And when that day comes, I'm going to **ruin** you for anyone else.’_

"What the-- _whatdidyoujustsay_?" Stiles squawks, completely caught off guard. But he has heard it, he's heard Peter state, quite definitively, that he's going to be ruined for anyone else. Stiles has no doubts that Peter could do it too. 

His grip on Peter's other hand tightens. Stiles' own fingers are starting to get sweaty from the holding, but the touch is anchoring. Stiles takes in a large breath, his eyes closing as he tilts his head back on the Jeep. He feels oddly energized and tapped into this and he desperately doesn't want it to end. 

* * *

Stiles Stilinski is like a drug tailor-made for Peter. He's viciously intelligent but supremely awkward. He's sharp-witted and cunning but impulsive enough to keep things interesting. And he is so, _so_ reactive that it makes Peter want to _properly_ ravish him, and tease Stiles until he either comes all over himself or begs for it. In truth, Peter knows that Stiles is still a virgin. It's not necessarily something that either of them can miss. 

It had been the start of this whole thing, after all. So Peter's more than aware that when he does give in and when he _does_ fuck Stiles to within an inch of his life, he's not going to last long. Thankfully Stiles is still technically a teenager, and Peter remembers those refractory periods. It's a thought that gives him great enjoyment.

But he doesn't let himself live so far in the future. Instead he noses gently in below Stiles' ear and hears Stiles' pulse skip and trip over itself. Peter breathes in the growing scent of arousal and he doesn't need to imagine the twitch of Stiles' cock against his hand, because he can _feel_ it. He can feel how badly Stiles wants him and it's intoxicating. The desire to bite is as strong as the desire Peter has to slide his hand _inside_ Stiles' boxers, but as he has every time before this, he keeps himself in check. Peter breathes out slowly against Stiles' throat and listens to him exhale on a rush. 

Yet when Stiles tilts his head back, when he bares the column of his throat to Peter's lips, Peter glances down at it and then lets himself growl softly under his breath. It'll be a sudden vibration, something that Stiles can _feel_ , and really, with Stiles sounding so stunned, how can Peter deny him?

"I said," he begins, his voice a mere whisper against Stiles' throat. Peter's touch presses closer and he feels the strain of Stiles' cock against his jeans. Peter's thumb presses where he believes he can feel the swell of the head of Stiles' cock. It's the most he's ever touched Stiles before. 

"That when I spread you out on my bed and take you apart, I will _ruin_ you for anyone else in the future. Every time you're touched - every time you touch yourself - all you'll be able to feel will be _my_ hands on your skin."

* * *

Stiles hadn't believed things would ever get to this point. Honestly, he'd assumed that Peter wouldn't even take up the courtship challenge. He'd assumed that Peter would get bored with their PG-rated dates and either throw him to the wayside or sex him up the first time Stiles popped a boner. The fact that Peter lives for drawing this out and teasing... well, it's no surprise now, but hindsight is 20/20. 

Stiles isn't against teasing. Teasing is great, it's sexy, it's fun. Stiles thinks, no, he knows that he'd love teasing too, but he doesn't have any competency in this yet. He can't turn this around on Peter.

It should be infuriating to feel at a loss and maybe even helpless or clueless, but Stiles is so fucking hard and horny that he doesn't care that he's inexperienced. He's not thrilled by his inexperience, but there's only one way to _get_ experience and that's doing something - _anything_ \- with Peter. 

When Stiles hears and feels Peter growl, there's an embarrassing little gasp that slips out. There's just something hot about growling and knowing that Peter is a werewolf and dangerous. 

Stiles is panting when Peter's lips move against his throat. He still remembers Peter's offer all those years ago... But Peter's hand against his crotch is far more distracting and when something moves, maybe Peter's thumb, it elicits a sharp jolt because _ohmygod_ Peter is kinda touching him - at least through his jeans - and it feels amazing. 

It has Stiles' hips jerking forward and has his muscles clenching in want. Peter's dirty talk is something else entirely. It's on a completely other level and though it's Peter just rephrasing what he's said moments ago, Stiles clenches his eyes shut. They're technically out in public, but Stiles isn't thinking about being caught or seen (and maybe that just adds to the thrill, actually). The idea of Peter ruining him, the idea of being spread out on Peter's bed... Images swirl in Stiles' mind and fuck, he wants-needs-it.

"Fuck, Peter, please, please--" Stiles blurts out, so very desperate but directionless. 

* * *

Peter doubts that there will ever be anything that he enjoys more than this. Power? Of course he wants it, would _love_ to have it, but isn't this a form of power on its own? Isn't Stiles' desperation and begging its own form of sweet control? Peter knows then that he could do anything right now and have it be well-received. 

He could touch Stiles harder and leave him begging. He could kiss him sweetly and draw back, and know without a shadow of a doubt that Stiles would fall apart and touch himself as soon as he got home. It's powerful in a different way and Peter likes it.

He _likes_ the way that Stiles' breathing thickens and quickens. He likes the way that Stiles trembles when Peter touches him even if it is through more than one layer. He likes the way that Stiles' muscles clench as Peter presses in closer and whispers filth against his skin. And when he promises, when his words stab right through to that desperate little place in Stiles' mind, Peter breathes in and he can tell immediately how close Stiles is. He does consider stepping back then, as they've not gone this far and Peter hadn't quite cleared it before. But then Stiles suddenly gasps out a sharp, jagged plea, filled with desperation and need, and Peter doubts he has a choice.

Stiles is close enough that a whisper could get him off, and Peter - despite everything else - wants to see it. His lips curve into a smirk against Stiles' throat, and he savors how beautiful his name sounds in desperation from Stiles' lips. Peter gives Stiles' hand a little squeeze and lifts it, pressing it back against the roof of Stiles' car. 

Then, quite clearly, Peter leans down to set his teeth against Stiles' throat. He bites hard enough to feel and he presses his hand just a little harder to the crux of Stiles' legs, and he knows that when Stiles comes, Peter will be able to feel the thundering of his pulse against his lips.

* * *

Apparently, Stiles is going to beg now. Later Stiles may regret this or feel embarrassed that he's done it, but that's for later. He can't help that he's so fucking wound up. They've been doing this song and dance for a while now and Stiles has always wanted to do sex things. He definitely doesn't have an aversion to sex, it just had never panned out and he definitely knew he wasn't going to lose it on a whim with Peter. 

But it's looking like it's going to be Peter that does do it. Eventually, anyway. Stiles highly doubts that it's going to happen anytime soon, however and definitely not tonight. But good grief is he hard in his jeans and desperate to get off - desperate for something, anything from Peter. And Peter thankfuckingheaven doesn't back away from him. Peter actually lifts Stiles' hand, pinning it against the roof of his car (which is totally hotter than it has an right to be). 

Two things happen at once: Peter's mouth comes to his neck and Stiles feels Peter's lips, his breath and then teeth because Peter is _biting_ him. Peter isn't doing just that, though. Peter's other hand, his warm palm, presses more insistently against Stiles' dick and that's all it takes. 

Stiles' hips jerk up and he's coming hard and suddenly with a yelped out gasp. In the pleasured shock of orgasm, Stiles is only aware of Peter's blunt human teeth on his neck and the pressure of Peter's hand and both are perfect as he shakes.

* * *

Stiles reacts beautifully. There's no uncertainty between them as he falls apart against his Jeep. Peter _basks_ in it, and while he knows that he's crossed a line, that they've now taken one step into a more intimate sort of relationship, he doesn't care. He's kept Stiles strung out for the last few months and that Stiles is so damn sensitive to his touch is only more proof that Peter's been teasing him properly. He closes his eyes as Stiles gasps and he drinks in the feeling of Stiles' pulse fluttering against his lips, desperate and quick. 

Peter can't see Stiles' cock, but he _can_ feel the pulse of it against his hand as Stiles jerks his hips and wetness begins to seep into the denim around Stiles' dick. Peter hums a low, pleased sound, something possessive and _satisfied_ , and even though he hasn't gotten off, he still is hard. It's not a priority, though. Stiles is his priority, and the way he falls apart in a way that makes Peter want to work him up all over again just to see him fall over the edge anew.

While Peter doesn't do that, he does rub at the front of Stiles' jeans, does coax him through the rest of his orgasm with no shame. He draws his teeth away from Stiles' throat to suck gentle, slightly-biting kisses against it, and he murmurs low praise against Stiles' throat, clearly pleased with himself. 

When Stiles' legs are shaking with the effort, Peter finally stops rubbing, finally lets him rest. He draws back just enough to press a chaste kiss to Stiles' lips and then sends him a lazy, easygoing smirk. 

"I'd say that went well. Are you all right?"

* * *

Wow. _Really_? Okay? Okay. This is happening. Stiles is coming in his goddamn jeans like some teenager and Peter is letting him. Peter encouraged it. Peter pushed him to it, because Peter isn't an idiot. Stiles knows that Peter can smell arousal, Peter had felt that he'd had an erection. If Peter hadn't wanted it to happen, Peter would have stopped. Peter's stopped every time before now, so it's safe to assume that Peter wanted _this_ to happen. 

To date, it's his best orgasm, or at least his quickest and most sudden. Stiles feels at a loss for words, pleasure and relief zinging through him so perfectly that his knees actually feel weak. But Peter has him securely pinned to the Jeep. Stiles isn't going anywhere. His eyes are closed, he pants through it and Stiles distantly registers Peter's hand moving over his dick in clear encouragement. It's when Peter sucks at his skin on his neck that Stiles realizes he totally feels the wetness of his ejaculate. His boxers are sticking to him and there's going to be a wet spot. Great...

But Stiles can't really be bothered to care. He hadn't even glanced around to ensure no one else was near them. They're technically in a public place, although there's no public around. Eventually Peter stops his coaxing, his hand pulling away and Stiles blinks, dazed as he comes back to himself. Peter is quick to give him a light, fleeting kiss that Stiles doesn't even respond to. It's Peter's smirk and question that have Stiles re-focusing. 

"M-me? What do you think? I'm good, I'm fine," Stiles rambles out. "No complaints. Other than the laundry I'll have to do, but by the look on your face, I _know_ you're pleased with yourself."

* * *

Peter _is_ pleased with himself. Perhaps it had been a bit of a risk to take a step in this direction, but has Stiles not earned it after all this time? Has _he_ not? The picture of a perfect gentleman. That's what Peter has been, and what he intends to continue being, but a little deviation from the norm won't hurt anyone now and then. Besides, looking at Stiles now, his face flushed, his breathing quick, his neck carrying the faintest traces of bites and bruises that could have been much more substantial had Peter let himself do a little more. He's satisfied with this accomplishment, though, and as his smirk widens, as he watches Stiles' dazed eyes refocus on his own, Peter hums a low, pleased sound and nods, unashamed.

"Intensely," he replies, leaning in again to steal another kiss while Stiles is distracted. Peter's eyes glint with interest, but while he _could_ encourage Stiles to return the favor, or linger, he doesn't. Stiles looks a little too dazed, a little too blissed out in his own head, and Peter's pretty damn pleased with himself. 

"You should probably go do that laundry before you get _too_ uncomfortable," Peter teases lightly, finally letting Stiles' hand go. He doesn't stop pinning Stiles to the Jeep with his body because he's reasonably sure that Stiles' knees aren't the most stable right now, but it's the thought that counts. "I assume you're free on Friday? You really should use a calendar app and share it with me so I know in advance."

* * *

Maybe Stiles should be embarrassed or humiliated that he got off this quick or easy, but Peter isn't giving him a rough time about it and Stiles can't go back and do it any differently. Crazy shit has happened, but there hasn't been any time traveling in Beacon Hills. What's done is done and Peter being pleased is hardly the worst outcome. Stiles at least got off. Peter is still hard in his jeans. Stiles can feel it. Distantly he's aware that he should or could offer to do something about it, but Stiles' brain is still coming back online.

Peter's hand releases his own and Stiles... doesn't actually like it, but he says nothing and his arm comes to rest by his side, feeling a little tingly at the position and increased blood flow. The jab about doing laundry has Stiles just grimacing rather weakly. He really hopes his Dad isn't around when he comes in, but there's probably a hoodie in the car he can use to cover his crotch if need be. 

The mention of using a calendar app makes them sound so... _official._ But it's also practical. Stiles works and his shifts vary. He's a barista. It's not his dream job by any means, but it's fun enough for the meantime and allows him the flexibility of taking a few online courses too. 

"Okay, _fine,_ I'll set something up," Stiles agrees. Because it makes sense. Because they're going to be going on more dates. Because maybe he is officially dating Peter.

* * *

Peter doesn't point out Stiles' clear distress over Peter letting go of his hand, but he does subtly file it away with a small thread of amusement. While finding a more callous enjoyment would be beneficial to his initial plan of boosting his own ego, Peter can't actually say that he hasn't _really_ come to enjoy Stiles' company over time. What had started as a dare has become something else. He's no longer just inviting Stiles out for his own ego, but because he's found genuine enjoyment in how Stiles' eyes light up when Peter manages to surprise him, or the insight that Stiles tends to have on the smallest, most obscure things.

All Peter needs to do is lift an eyebrow and Stiles seems to come to a conclusion. Peter hasn't really been pushing for a shared calendar, but he's hinted at it on occasion. That Stiles gives in so easily is enough to draw a smaller smile to Peter's lips. He leans in and tilts Stiles' chin up with one finger, then leans in to press a kiss to his lips, chaste and quick, but almost a reward. 

"Good," he says, low and pleased, and steals another kiss for good measure. "Now... I believe your curfew is coming up soon. If you think you're capable of driving back home... I'll see you on Friday, Stiles."


	2. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So when Peter finally looks back over at Stiles completely, there's a conspiratory glint in his eyes that translates quite well to the tug of a mischievous smile that lands on Peter's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (｡◝‿◜｡) eeeeeee, an update! ✰ *･.｡ ♡ °･ゞ
> 
> Bring on the cute aggression.

Before the night is over, Peter already has plans for their next little outing. He makes a point to annoy Derek into telling him to get his ass out of the loft and _keep_ it away for at least the weekend and, feigning indignation, Peter storms off to put everything together. 

The thing is... Peter is very good at rising to a challenge. While this _thing_ with Stiles has become less of a challenge over time and more something to depend on for entertainment and a bit of an ego-boost whenever they meet, the principle is the same. Peter never wants Stiles to come away from a date (because that's what they're doing, even if it had started oddly) feeling like Peter had simply cut corners or merely defaulted to a date that _he_ would enjoy without putting Stiles' interests into the equation.

It's with that in mind that he tells Stiles to be ready on Friday evening, and to dress up a little. Stiles, ever one to follow Peter's requests but not _exactly_ \- shows up in a pair of nicer jeans and sneakers, but with a bowtie on, and Peter finds it just so ridiculously _Stiles_ that he accepts it. It honestly works well given where they're going.

And where they're going is a nice retro joint a couple of hours outside of town. Peter remembers Stiles expressing a sort of half-fond, half-morbidly curious interest over the whole concept of jukeboxes and roller-skating waitresses and milkshakes and the like, and Peter always aims to please. It's further out of their way, but that's no issue. 

Peter parks in the parking lot a good two hours later, the engine of his Lexus easing to a soft purr, and he's the one to escort Stiles inside, drinking in the sight of Stiles' surprise when he realizes where they're going.

It's nice. It's not what Peter could _ever_ have called a 'fancy date', but the black-and-white checkered floors have a certain charm to them as they walk in and a waitress leads them to a plush red booth with a table that rests close enough to put one's elbows on if they so wish. The decor is _all_ 50's, with paintings of old cars and pictures hanging on the walls, and authentic colors all over the place. The booths line both walls, and there are a number of bar stools in front of the main counter, but despite the cheesier aesthetic of the place, it _is_ slightly more upscale.

Case and point: along the back wall, in a more low-lit area, is a section of floor that has been cordoned off for couples - or singles - who want to dance to the music playing in the background. Peter's somewhat relieved to know that it's not _all_ 50's music, and that other songs can and do play, but it's a nice little touch, and given the way that Stiles has hardly blinked since arriving, Peter's going to take it as a good thing.

He leans back on the booth and takes off his leather jacket, leaving himself in a black dress shirt, unbuttoned down to the hollow of his throat. It's doubtful that Stiles is at all surprised. 

Peter sends him a look anyway, and once it looks like Stiles might listen to him, Peter chimes up with a soft, amused, "I take it this place meets with your approval, then."

* * *

Stiles does get a calendar app and he shares his information with Peter. This way he can input his work schedule or any other things that pop up and Peter know what's going on. It's practical. It makes sense. It'll be easier to schedule dates and whatnot. A few hours later, when Stiles opens the app, he sees that Peter has actually added a few entries too. Curiosity gets the best of Stiles and he clicks on the first entry he sees. It's a hair appointment. Stiles can't help but snort and then the other is... a manicure? The snort turns into a guffaw of laughter that garners a few looks from his co-workers. 

Stiles can't resist sending off a text: [ _That's why u have soft hands. It all makes sense now!_ ] He then pockets his phone. 

The third entry had been labelled "Dinner Date" on Friday with a rather big chunk of time allotted, but no address listed or any further details. It's obviously out of town, but where could they be going? Stiles is excited. If it's far out, Peter is going to drive him and Stiles likes fucking with all the controls in Peter's fancyschmancy car.

On the day, Peter lets him know that he's to dress up a little and Stiles debates dress pants and dress shoes, but nah. Peter had said "a little." So Stiles settles on a dark pair of jeans that hug his ass rather nicely, a grey short-sleeve button down shirt and a red bowtie. Stiles likes bowties more than ties. Bowties are quirky. 

He selects his nicest (unscuffed) sneakers to complete the look. Stiles runs some gel through his hair, messes it the appropriate amount, and then grins at his Dad before he runs out the door. He thinks he looks rather dapper and when Stiles climbs into Peter's car, Stiles can tell that Peter also likes it.

The drive _is_ spent with Stiles fucking with Peter's pre-set preferences with the the A/C, the vents, and the satellite radio until Peter growls and slaps his hand and Stiles just laughs to himself, pleased as punch. 

Although the place is named Peggy's Diner, Stiles can tell that it's a super cool restaurant just from the outside. His eyes widen when Peter takes his hand and walks him in and Stiles' head is glancing around in all directions, taking in the funky vintage decor. It's all bright and bold and doesn't seem like it would be Peter's thing at all... It's then Stiles remembers that he'd mentioned being curious about all of this retro shit.

Peter directs him to a booth, the bench bright red and Stiles settles in, blatantly watching Peter take off his leather jacket. Peter looks _good_ and Stiles' eyes drag over him, a break from momentarily being distracted by all the fun and flare around them. 

"This is actually really cool," Stiles beams. "You've proven that you _do_ listen to me. Good boyfriend."

* * *

Stiles looks a little like Christmas has come early, which had been Peter's goal all along. While he might not always specifically enjoy the places he takes Stiles, he doesn't take himself _so_ seriously that he can't focus on someone else every now and then. He's sure that the rest of the pack would be shocked to find that little tidbit out, but that knowledge is only reserved for family, and for people that Peter has apparently accidentally started to date for real. 

Once, perhaps, the concept of dating for _real_ might have shocked him, but he's eased into it over time. Stiles is a force to be reckoned with.

Stiles looks pleased as he takes in the decor, but Peter doesn't miss the little once-over that Stiles gives him. His clothes, his hair, and his hands - despite the teasing little text that Stiles had sent him before - all seem to meet with Stiles' approval, and Peter's _quite_ in agreement. Stiles looks good, and like he fits the decor around him. This aesthetic just suits Stiles, who is charming and ridiculous in equal measure. Peter smirks.

"I try," he drawls, half-sarcastic, as always, but the word _boyfriend_ does catch his attention. They say it on occasion, mostly in jest, but Peter doesn't miss that this particular tone is lacking its usual mocking. He wonders if Stiles had been aware of it, or if it had been a slip. Either way, Peter's oddly all right with it. 

He lets Stiles go back to looking at the decor, and when a waitress comes over with a bright smile on her face and offers them menus, Peter intercepts before Stiles can think about it. He's going to make sure that Stiles gets the full experience. So he orders two milkshakes - one strawberry, one chocolate - because he knows that Stiles can be indecisive when it comes to flavors that he enjoys. Besides, Peter doesn't have an issue sharing straws if it comes down to it. Stiles is hygienic and Peter can't get sick anyway. 

When the milkshakes arrive, Peter pushes the strawberry one over to Stiles, already aware of the order in which Stiles' preferences tend to run. Dating him in jest for a few weeks and then dating him for real the last few months have given Peter a rather intricate knowledge of how Stiles' preferences tend to work.

"Even better, they have curly fries here. I won't even make faces if you gorge yourself, though you take that responsibility on your shoulders if you do. Look to see if there's anything you can bring back for your father after, as well. He's working late tonight."

* * *

Stiles realizes what he's said _after,_ that he's actually praised Peter for being a _good_ _boyfriend._ Of course he's referred to Peter as his boyfriend before, but it's usually been done as a taunt. Stiles' Dad had actually been the first one to seriously use 'boyfriend' in relation to Peter. At the time Stiles had opened his mouth to refute it, but upon consideration, Stiles had said nothing.

Stiles isn't seeing anyone else and neither is Peter. They go on dates. Numerous dates, even. They do the hand holding thing. And kissing. And apparently Peter talking him off. Peter pays for shit (but not _everything_ ). If it looks like a boyfriend, acts like a boyfriend, maybe it _is_ a boyfriend, hm? 

Yup. They're boyfriends. The label is a bit weird sounding to apply to Peter, but it definitely beats partner or lifemate or something like that. And using _boy_ friend in conjunction with Peter - who is most definitely not a boy - does amuse Stiles.

Not that Stiles wants to compliment Peter _often,_ but Peter has actually been a decent boyfriend. Of course, Stiles doesn't have a lot of experience to compare Peter to - just his friends but they're all younger like him. Stiles had seen first hand how immature high school dating could be. Despite who they are, their personalities, their dating hasn't actually been childish? Who woulda thought...

Peter hasn't always ordered for him and he doesn't do it all the time either. It used to be weird when Peter first did it, but Peter has proven that he actually knows what Stiles likes. So when Peter orders milkshakes to begin with - chocolate _and_ strawberry - Stiles doesn't protest. Can't go wrong with a milkshake and the best of both worlds, too. The strawberry flavored one is passed off to him and Stiles slurps at it as Peter mentions curly fries and bringing some food home for his Dad. 

Stiles cheeks hollow as he sucks up the thick milkshake, completely unaware of any possible innuendo. After he pulls away, he licks his lips. 

"I don't _gorge_ myself," Stiles shoots back. "But it's good to know. Thanks Peterrrrr."

* * *

_Stiles_ might be woefully blind to the very clear innuendo that Peter can see before him, but Peter is not so lucky. Or perhaps Stiles is the one left sorely unfortunate, because as Peter watches Stiles' cheeks hollow as he sucks the thick milkshake up through the straw, he has to admit that it definitely bodes well for later. Peter might be patient; he might enjoy leading Stiles along at his pace and watching him squirm and beg for more, but he's still got a dick and he definitely still knows how to use it. 

Certain things are more important than getting off though, and Peter _quite_ enjoys the way that Stiles throws himself into the milkshake drinking. He does lift an eyebrow as if to draw attention to it, but Stiles seems none the wiser. It's endearing.

"Typically people like to savor their food if they enjoy it," Peter points out without heat. 'People' is not Stiles Stilinski in this case. Peter has seen him all but inhale a burger before. It had been horrifying and fascinating to watch in equal measure. Sometimes Peter even takes Stiles to places he knows Stiles enjoys just to see the creative ways that Stiles can stuff his face. Purely for innocent reasons, of course. There's absolutely no benefit of knowing the way that Stiles can stuff his cheeks full of pizza and reach for more...

Peter likes Stiles' mouth. It's often moving and talking randomly, but as well as being attractive, Peter typically likes most of the words that come out of it nowadays. Even the way that Stiles drawls his name is enough to make him roll his eyes, but fondly. Trust Stiles... 

"But you're welcome. If you'd like to try mine, you're more than welcome to," Peter adds, indicating his milkshake with a purely innocent interest. 

* * *

Peter is oddly thoughtful at times. Mentioning bringing something back for his Dad, the curly fries, bringing him _here_. These aren't isolated incidents. At first Stiles had been legitimately suspicious of Peter, expecting ulterior motives and the like, but it's been months and it honestly doesn't look like Peter has some big sneaky plot brewing. 

While it had started as a dare, as a game, things have changed over time. Stiles actually likes Peter. He likes their dates. They have fun. Peter's amusing. Peter treats him well. 

Stiles has even exchanged a few heated words with Scott because as much as he loves his best friend, Scott hasn't been so forgiving toward Peter and he's definitely not thrilled about their dating. But Stiles isn't going to allow Scott's disapproval to stop him. Scott doesn't have to like it, he just needs to respect Stiles' decision. And it looks like they've finally moved past most of the protests because Scott has stopped asking what Stiles sees in Peter and other questions like that.

"I savor it," Stiles mutters under his breath after Peter's little comment. Stiles is just enthusiastic about savoring his food _quickly_ while Peter twirls his utensils and enjoys the aesthetic or something. Peter will be able to hear him so Stiles figures giving Peter's shoe a friendly kick under the table wouldn't go amiss.

The offer of trying Peter's milkshake has Stiles' eyes widening because what's better than one milkshake? Two, of course. He reaches over and slides Peter's drink closer, mouthing at the straw immediately and sucking hard. The sluggish milkshake tries to resist, but Stiles is victorious in the end and when he pulls off he comments, "they weren't lying about the 'thick' part in 'thick homemade milkshakes.' But mmm they're good. You try mine too. We must complete the spit exchange."

* * *

Stiles' little grumble is just endearing enough for Peter to let it slide. The little kick to his shoe only adds to the fondness that he feels in his chest right now, and with a small roll of his eyes, Peter gives Stiles' shoe a little nudge in return, acknowledgement and teasing in one. Stiles has a way of putting people at ease, and while Peter wouldn't ever really say he's _not_ at ease, there is a comfortable back-and-forth between them now, as there always seems to be when they're together. 

Had anyone implied that he might be legitimately dating someone a little older than half his age even a few years ago, Peter... well. Probably wouldn't have been able to respond on account of the whole _coma_ thing, but before that? He'd have scoffed incredulously and dismissed the idea as ludicrous.

Watching Stiles eagerly grab the chocolate milkshake and pull it in close to drink some of it down, Peter doubts he's found this ludicrous in some time. At least not when _with_ Stiles. At first it had been a joke, and then a matter of pride. But he'd always found Stiles the only worthwhile person in the pack to talk to before this. Lydia had carried an understandable grudge, and she'd _known_ she was smarter than most people. Too much of a personality clash. And while Peter does still get along with Derek, it's tense and strained in places, especially given this... _Stiles_ thing. Peter's reasonably sure that Derek still expects Peter to rip Stiles' throat out some day.

He won't. It's a very pretty throat. Why waste it?

Peter reaches out to draw Stiles' milkshake in closer, and - wondering idly if he might be able to make Stiles see what the hollowing of _his_ cheeks has been implying - Peter leans down and takes Stiles' straw between his teeth. 

"Like we don't do that often enough whenever I walk you back to your car, or drive you home," Peter teases, amused, and then closes his lips around the straw. 

He doesn't _need_ to hollow his cheeks, because pointed suction is simple with help from one's tongue, but he looks over at Stiles and does it anyway, sucking at the straw and actually silently approving over the taste. Peter _does_ like strawberry, and Stiles. It's a win-win.

* * *

Stiles isn't surprised by the friendly (fond) nudge back to his sneaker. Yeah, it's technically playing footsie, but whatever. No one can see 'em and even if they could, would Stiles really care? They've been affectionate in public and Stiles has noticed a few curious and sometimes judgmental looks sent their way. 

Yes, there's an age gap between them, but it's not like it's the biggest ever. Stiles is a consenting adult. Peter isn't taking advantage of him. Despite their uh, rather dramatic introduction, they just work well together.

Because Peter knows that he likes both strawberry and chocolate milkshakes and has a hard time picking, so Peter's ordered both now. Peter also knows about his Dad's trouble with finding time to eat with the night shifts so Peter had mentioned picking him up something. Peter and the words _thoughtful_ and _sweet_ shouldn't go together, but Stiles has ample evidence to prove the contrary. Of course Peter isn't like this _all_ the time, there's still sarcasm and wit and Stiles thrives off the banter, but it's more than enough.

"We could do it more often," Stiles points out, eyebrows lifting in suggestion. Their liplocking has only been happening when they part (such sweet sorrow and all). They could change it up. 

It's then that Stiles notices Peter sucking pretty hard at the milkshake, his cheeks hollowing in the exertion. Stiles kicks at Peter's shoe again. 

"Is that how I looked going to town on my milkshake?" Stiles asks. "I could see milkshakes getting dangerous."

* * *

Peter doesn't smile immediately after Stiles kicks at his shoe. He manages a full five seconds longer before the corners of his lips twitch in a would-be-smile and he finally relents enough to offer Stiles a small, knowing wink. Peter doesn't need to point out that Stiles had looked like he'd been fellating his straw. Stiles learns very well by example, and Peter doesn't mind being that example. 

It's harmless fun anyway, and when Peter draws back, the taste of strawberry lingering on his tongue, he looks lazily pleased with himself, as he often does while talking to Stiles. He chuckles under his breath and offers Stiles' milkshake back to him by pushing it back a little closer to the middle of the table. Then he reaches out and takes his menu and glances down at it, as though he'd not heard Stiles before.

He had, though. Peter's thinking. Truly, he _had_ indulged a little a few days ago, and he's thought about the look in Stiles' eyes as he'd been coming more often than is likely strictly healthy ever since. Peter's no stranger to self-love, but he'd taken extra pleasure in his time with himself with _that_ little display. He doesn't regret it. But is this comfortable familiarity they've fallen into worth changing? Perhaps.

Peter glances at Stiles over his menu, half-thoughtful, half-teasing. His lips pull into the faintest of smiles, even if he can hear the waitress beginning to rouse from behind the counter. 

"For the record, yes, that is absolutely what you looked like. As for 'doing it more often', if that's something you want, I suppose I could be persuaded. It's not like it's a hardship, particularly given the way you look at me after."

* * *

Peter eventually smiles at him. Although seen more rarely, Peter actually has a nice smile. Stiles sees more little smirks and grins and he has no problems with those expressions. They're sort of a package deal with Peter anyway, just like rambling is to Stiles. They're not going to change in these areas. 

And maybe movies and books want to encourage doing anything for your partner or changing to keep or win someone over, but Stiles thinks that that might be bullshit. Should you _have_ to change? Is that person really right for you if you do?

Stiles mentions swapping spit more often - aka kissing - and Peter takes his sweet time in replying, eyes looking over the raised menu. And what Peter says - that he could be persuaded given the way Stiles looks at him after - has Stiles' hands scrambling for his own menu, hiding the hot flush that's suddenly attacked him. Great.

"Uh, I'm only like that because we don't do it that much, kay," Stiles rushes out, his reasoning sounding lame even to him. "Maybe if we kissed more often I'd be used to it. You could be deliberately trying to get me to stay inexperienced so you can hold it over me." Which maybe isn't the _best_ thing to say to try and convince Peter to engage more often, but it's too late now. Whoops... 

* * *

The flush that immediately colors Stiles' skin is so enticing that it honestly does attract Peter's attention. He takes the time to admire it in the time it takes Stiles to scramble for the menu, but Peter drinks in his fill while he can. He really does enjoy how flustered Stiles becomes when Peter calls him on anything. It's endearing if nothing else, and really, the knowledge that Stiles is embarrassed because Peter's told him that he looks like he's enjoying himself after being kissed is about as tame as it comes.

Even so, the response is... well. It's not kind. Were Peter _anyone_ else, he might have taken offense to it, but he and Stiles have been candid for awhile now, and instead of being offended, Peter only lets out a huff of softer laughter in amusement and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. The smile that had been on his lips quickly becomes a smirk instead and when he looks Stiles over again, there's clear teasing in Peter's eyes. It, like most of their teasing, holds no malice. Peter has never really taken much offense at anything that Stiles had suggested to him and this is no different.

"Well, I must say, your inexperience _does_ play a part. I'm as red-blooded as anyone else, Stiles. I'm rather fond of the way you look at me like you've just been enlightened. Or properly fucked," Peter adds thoughtfully. His smirk widens. 

"But I don't think I'm trying to _deliberately_ keep you inexperienced. Even if I was, that's a losing battle. You're getting more experienced every time we kiss, though I do take pleasure in drawing it out. Not that I did that the other night..."

* * *

Stiles doesn't actually think Peter is trying to deliberately keep him inexperienced. Peter lives for teasing, yeah, but the way that Peter had talked during their last parting kiss? The promise that had also sounded like a threat? Peter's intentions of ruining Stiles for anyone else...? Peter had been really into it. Peter wants him, too. Peter wants more. Stiles had felt the thick hard outline of Peter's dick against him. There's no way Peter would put this time in if he was just playing. 

Even so, it's weird to hear that Peter likes how he looks at him _after_ it. And Peter describes the look as _enlightened_ or _properly_ _fucked?_ Stiles has no idea how those two can relate, so he resolutely stares at the menu options. He can hear the equally amused and pleased smirk in Peter's voice. Stiles feels a wave of heat hit him when Peter just so casually admits to taking pleasure in drawing it out. Stiles' pulse jumps and his fingers grip the menu tighter. Stiles has gotten off remembering that night, Peter's mouth on his throat, Peter murmuring to him, Peter's hand pressing against--

And then the waitress returns, bubbly and interested in doing her job. And now Stiles needs to pretend to be fine and normal and not like he's just been talking about kissing with his far-too-skilled boyfriend. Stiles sits up straighter and rushes to order chicken strips and curly fries. Peter places his order and then both menus are collected and Stiles sees Peter waiting for him to respond. 

"Well, I _felt_ how much you enjoyed _not_ drawing it out the other night," Stiles states, his tone trying to be confident. 

* * *

It really is a pleasure to watch Stiles respond even if it's not initially verbal. Stiles might not respond out loud for awhile, but Peter can see the flush to his cheeks and the way that that same flush complements the bowtie he's wearing. It's an endearing mental image and Peter likes watching the conflict in Stiles' eyes, mostly because it's not malicious. Stiles might be embarrassed, but he's also aroused. 

Peter can smell the arousal on Stiles as he stares fixedly down at the menu in front of him like it has the answer to all of life's mysteries. It's amusing and interesting in equal measure, and Peter finds himself oddly curious to see how Stiles is going to respond. But before he can, before the arousal can reach its zenith, Peter glances to the side when he hears the familiar sound of their waitress returning. A rain check then.

He doesn't tell Stiles that she's coming, and Peter does take pleasure in the clear surprise in Stiles' eyes when she shows up. Still, he covers well. Peter waits for Stiles to order and then does the same for himself, ordering a grilled chicken burger and fries, which _is_ a bit of a concession for him. Normally Peter defaults to healthier food if he can, but this is a retro diner and every now and then Peter likes to shake things up. 

Just like Stiles does, apparently. As, while it _had_ taken Stiles awhile to reply, when he does, he does a rather good job at faking confidence and turning things back around on Peter. Peter, for his part, looks quietly delighted, the amusement in his eyes sharpening and his posture straightening, as though in expectation. Trust Stiles... 

"Have I ever given you reason to believe that I _don't_ enjoy you?" Peter asks, hoping that Stiles remains practical and doesn't take the low-hanging fruit of when Peter had been out of his mind with revenge. "Maybe I'm not always pressed up _quite_ so close, but what you _felt_ was not exactly an uncommon reaction around you, Stiles."

* * *

While it's not uncommon to talk about _them_ \- physical stuff isn't usually discussed publicly. Maybe a joke or stray comment here and there, but this is... This is a little more in-depth and Stiles really doesn't want to get hot 'n bothered in a place called _Peggy's Diner._ That doesn't sound like a good time at all. 

But now that they've ordered, they're alone again, and Stiles has decided to continue with this subject. Stiles has chosen this and Stiles can't even remember who _started_ this whole thing. Two tables away is a _family_ with kids and all and here he's talking about Peter's arousal last time. Classy.

While Stiles hadn't been overly-fixated, he had been aware of Peter's dick. Peter _had_ been aroused. Peter had gotten an erection and all Stiles had done was kiss him and listen to Peter talk up his sex-game (which had been enough for Stiles to get desperate enough to beg). Stiles knows that he doesn't want this line of conversation to continue... He's just gotta be careful with straws and milkshakes and he needs to stop commenting about feeling Peter's dick too.

Stiles pointedly doesn't mention the times when Peter _hadn't_ enjoyed him (aka Peter being maniacal and fighting against high school kids). Naturally, Peter talks about his "reaction" just casually, like it's no big deal. And well... Stiles is glad that it's mutual. 

"That's good to know," Stiles murmurs, his hand lifting up to scratch at the back of his head. Stiles takes another sip of the closest milkshake. 

The jukebox changes songs and Stiles' head turns as he hears a tittering group of girls point at an older couple that's just hobbled over to the dance floor and begun to slow dance.

"That's sweet, dancing like that, despite being in pubic," Stiles remarks, turning back to Peter. "I hope they don't break a hip."

* * *

Pleased with himself, Peter leans back in the booth, reaching his arm to drape over the back of it as he turns his full attention to Stiles. He's never been a man for shame; while others might have shied away from talking about something so intimate in public, Peter's never cared. He can hear the people around him, and focus on their heartbeats. He knows who's listening to them and who isn't, and right now, no one is paying them any mind. Well... no one save a few of the teenage girls in the corner who are trying to figure out if they're dating. Peter's more than fine with being watched provided they don't try to take his picture. His eyes, as always, are a problem.

But when Stiles dismisses the conversation, Peter takes the hint. Smirking his amusement, he relents and turns away, reaching out for his own milkshake to drink _properly_. He's fully intending to catch Stiles off guard, to push a little and watch Stiles flush a little deeper, but when Stiles suddenly cranes his neck around at the sound of giggling and a change in music, Peter dismisses the idea. 

Instead, he glances around as well, casual, and when he watches the older couple begin to sway to the slower, crooning music, one wrinkled hand held in the other, he watches them for awhile and then looks back at Stiles. It isn't anything until what Stiles _says_ , and then Peter focuses a little harder.

Stiles had called it sweet. Peter's known Stiles for long enough to know what 'sweet' means. His eyes narrow thoughtfully, but there's no real indication of anything in his eyes as he nods, allowing himself a small smile. It _is_ charming to see the couple dancing despite the giggling. Peter can respect that. 

"Despite being in public', Stiles? I'm sure they don't care. Have you never wanted someone to come in and sweep you off your feet?" Peter asks, his voice teasing, but there is a measure of curiosity there. 

* * *

Stiles doesn't mean anything malicious by his comment. He just knows that old people break bones easily and the recovering part is brutal after a certain age. Now celebrating love is great and everything - he's glad that the couple seem happy enough to still _want_ to dance together - but it's not worth a hip! 

Not that he expects or even wants them to biff it. He's never liked watching those kinds of videos. He'd rather _not_ see people get hurt. Most of his supernatural friends are resilient, they heal and can take a pounding, but Stiles still doesn't want them to get hurt.

Even with the dip into the nearly-awkward convo (at least for Stiles), he still finds himself comfortable with Peter. And maybe no one really _gets_ them, but his friends aren't dating Peter, Stiles is. His opinion is the one that counts and by now, most of the pack had seen that they're actually a good thing. 

Dressed up a little, Peter looks good. Stiles wonders if he should ask about going somewhere _fancy_ in the future. Stiles does have the suit he'd worn for his grad. It would work and he's pretty sure they'd garner some interesting looks from the snobs. Peter lives for disturbing the status quo after all. It could be fun. 

Just like dancing could be fun? Maybe. Stiles has danced at dances and he's danced at clubs, but those places were crowded. Stiles wouldn't say he's riddled with self-consciousness, but he's aware that he's not the most rhythmically inclined out there. 

But Peter is right - the couple likely don't care. They've probably survived the great depression or something, why would they be concerned about using the dancing section as intended?

"I don't think he's sweeping her off her feet anytime soon," Stiles jokes, his fingers idly tapping on the table. "And as for me? Yeah, maybe. I'm not afraid of a little romance."

* * *

Peter isn't one to coo at older couples like most people tend to do, but he can acknowledge the fact that the couple on the dance floor look like they're enjoying themselves. It's not something that many people are brave enough to do, so he can at least respect a little go-getting here and there even if Stiles is right. 

Given the shaking of the man's hands, he doubts he's going to be sweeping his lady off of her feet anytime soon. But given the smile that Peter can see on her face, and the way they're swaying close together, Peter doubts that she cares. It's sweet, even if it isn't something that Peter has ever desired. But as he glances over at Stiles and watches the way he taps at the table and listens to the way his pulse quickens ever so slightly, Peter gets his answer.

He considers it for a moment, as if mulling over a particular flavor, but in the end, hadn't he taken up the challenge properly? And really, what kind of courtship would this be without the whole picture? He had promised Stiles' father that he intended to court his son _properly_. So when Peter finally looks back over at Stiles completely, there's a conspiratory glint in his eyes that translates quite well to the tug of a mischievous smile that lands on Peter's lips. 

"Oh really? Good to know. So I suppose if I asked you to dance with me, you'd be all for it, then," Peter says casually, like it's not a big deal. Like it's not a direct spotlight shining on the both of them. It's hardly Hell for Peter, who quite likes the attention, but for Stiles? A young man with a well-documented case of 'two left feet'? It's another matter entirely. 

"I mean, what kind of _boyfriend_ would I be if I left that little dream untapped?"

* * *

Swept off of your feet... It's a weird phrase, isn't it? It makes Stiles think of floofy dresses and skillful dancing, with the guy twirling his girl all around and it's flashy and stylish and rather... straight? But the phrase applied to _him_? It's weird. Yeah, he's wearing a bowtie and a nicer shirt, but Stiles can't see himself being swept off his feet or attempting to sweep anyone else off their feet for that matter.

But Peter could do it, though. Peter is strong enough to whip him around like some boy ragdoll. The thought is amusing and... Stiles doesn't know. Maybe something else. Stiles wouldn't be surprised if Peter knew how to dance well either. It seems like such a random pretentious Peter thing to be good at. 

But dancing is kind of romantic - the good kind, though. Dancing makes memories, whereas flowers or chocolate don't last. The making memories kind of romance is Stiles' thing, which makes sense because Stiles has never been the materialistic type. It's exactly why he enjoys doing all these things with Peter, going on all the dates. 

Peter looks at the dancing couple before looking back at him. And Stiles has seen this look before. Stiles' eyebrow lift as Peter just goes on and hints that he might ask Stiles to dance. It has a curious flip of his stomach following because on one hand, Stiles doesn't _want_ to make an idiot of himself, but on the other, it's kind of sweet...

"A dream untapped, _really_?" Stiles replies. "I don't know if I would go that far."

* * *

Stiles gets a look in his eyes when he wants something. Peter has no intention of telling him about that little tell of his; it has come in handy on more than one occasion between them before this. Stiles will look at something for a mere second too long, and then Peter will know what Stiles wants him to do. Is it really cheating if Stiles is so obvious? No. But Peter has to admit that when he'd first met Stiles, he doubts he'd ever have assumed that _dancing_ would be something on Stiles' radar. 

Considering the fact that Stiles has tripped over his feet while standing still before, it likely doesn't bode well, but never let it be said that Peter doesn't go one hundred and ten percent into everything.

And he knows - he _knows_ \- he's made the right suggestion. Because as soon as the offer is out, Stiles' pulse quickens. Peter breathes in a scent that is anything but anxiety, and the look in Stiles' eyes softens almost imperceptibly. So many people in the pack think that Peter has an uncanny ability to _know_ things, but really. It's body language. And he knows what Stiles' normal is. This is no different. 

But Stiles doesn't take him up on it. Peter isn't surprised, but he _had_ noticed the longing little twist on Stiles' expression. It's all the resolve he needs to up the ante. If Stiles won't agree... well. They have a formula for that. Peter's smile eases into something almost expectant, and when he lifts an eyebrow at Stiles, there is a clear-but-warm challenge in his eyes.

"I _dare_ you to dance with me," Peter says, that same smile tugging at his lips. Then he holds his hand out across the table expectantly. 

* * *

It's most assuredly _not_ some _untapped_ dream to dance or be swept off his feet. Stiles wouldn't even say that it's _any_ sort of dream at all to be dancing, be it in public _or_ private. Sometimes he'll do some swaying, a little bit of snazzy snapping and hip action, but it's nothing too crazy. 

Stiles likes the _idea_ of dancing, of moving and having fun and maybe even some possible grinding if the music and mood were right, but he's not exactly a smooth operator. Dancing alone is one thing, like in the shower or his bedroom as he's hopping around and pulling on his socks. Stiles has never legitimately had a romantic dance, though. Whenever he went to school dances, he'd attended with friends and it had been casual. 

Peter is his friend, yeah, but Peter is _more_ than a friend, too. Peter is also his boyfriend, his boyfriend who's been courting - no, _properly_ courting - him. Dancing with Peter would be a sweet, romantic gesture, one that Stiles doesn't know how to even react to. So, he tries to bypass it altogether, to not make a big deal out of it, because if Stiles _really_ wanted to, yeah, he'd ask, but it's not some burning need. He's survived this long without doing it. Just coming here and having milkshakes and the experience and taking in the cool look is good enough. Stiles doesn't need more.

And then Peter _dares him_ and Stiles' eyes narrow slightly at the telling grin on Peter's face. Asshole. They're both competitive by nature. They both have dared each other to do things in the past, so why stop now? Stiles isn't going to concede, not over this challenge! Stiles doesn't leave Peter hanging. He makes up his mind with a resolute look and he reaches out, grabbing Peter's hand. 

"Oh, you're on, but you might regret this."

Together they stand and make their way over to the area sectioned off for dancing. 

* * *

The grin on Peter's lips isn't about to go away because he knows that Stiles is going to give in to him. This is what they do. Stiles had gotten Peter to order the hottest wings on the menu at a sports bar that Peter had taken him to, and he'd laughed his ass off at Peter's resulting discomfort, but Peter's gotten Stiles back on more than one occasion. It's not always a power they use for evil, though. 

Peter's dared Stiles to let him wrap an arm around his shoulders, and Stiles had dared him once to hold his hand when Peter had taken him a few cities over for... well, he still doesn't know what it had been. Something with a lot of costumes and computers. No matter, he'd done it.

This is no different. Peter catches the glimmer of challenge in Stiles' eyes and so when Stiles takes his hand definitively, Peter's smirk only widens before he gets up onto his feet with a flourish. Together, he and Stiles make their way over to the dance floor, and while Peter hears some of the tittering stop, he also sees the curious look the older couple shoot them before their lips pull into wrinkled smiles. Whether they think he and Stiles are cute or that they're coming over to stop the teenage girls from making fun of them, Peter doesn't care.

He takes Stiles' hand and pulls him in close, all but flush to his chest. Then, holding Stiles' hand, Peter moves his other hand behind Stiles' back and keeps him there, eyes glimmering in amusement, but also a bit of interest. He leans in as he takes the first step, taking the lead in what really amounts to a slow dance, all things considered. 

"Have you ever danced with someone before, Stiles?"

* * *

A dare had started this whole courtship thing. A dare had also been what had instigated their first real public displays of affection too. So, really, it only makes sense to continue this sorta-tradition because it's kinda their thing now. Dares might be childish, but they also make things fun and spontaneous (at least with them). Even if Stiles is a little on the fence about this whole dancing in public thing with Peter, he's gonna do it. 

Stiles can feel some of the teenager girls' attention re-direct to him and Peter as they make their intentions known. Oh well, they can make strides toward normalizing same-sex affection or something! Being that Stiles has always been rather loud and quirky, he's used to looks, so he's really not that put off. 

However, getting looks because of his _boyfriend_ choice is newer to him. There's not only the issue of gender - because apparently some people are still living under a rock and believe in whole fire and brimstone God thing - but also the 'oh-wow-there's-a-ten-plus-year-age-gap-what's-wrong-with-you' mindset. But for the most part things have gone smoothly enough for them and Stiles doubts that they will find any trouble here. 

Stiles is drawn close, one of Peter's hands coming to rest on his back while the other holds their clasped hands up. It still leaves Stiles' free hand holding nothing so he mirrors Peter and places it on Peter's back. Stiles is actually thankful that that it's a slow dance, it makes shuffling along easier. Still, Stiles is glancing down and watching Peter's feet to know what to do with his own. He doesn't miss the question asked of him, though.

"Yes, I may be a virgin but I _have_ been to dances and clubs in the past," Stiles whispers, glad for Peter's great hearing. It means Stiles can mumble and talk shit whenever. Good perk. "But they weren't anything seri--" 

Stiles cuts himself off. _Serious_. That's the word he was going use. Is he serious with _Peter_? Are _they_ serious?

* * *

Stiles hasn't really done this before. All Peter needs to see is the way that Stiles puts his free hand on Peter's back to know that, but it's endearing anyway. Peter smiles to himself, charmed, but he doesn't say anything immediately. He's tempted to let Stiles figure it out when his arm gets tired, but Peter resolves to tell him before any of the teenage girls notice. Right now, the most of them are fixated on him. Peter can hear the murmuring, the shock, the uncertainty, and the surprise. It's a good feeling, but it's not the reason he's doing this. Stiles is. 

And Stiles is honestly endearing as Peter watches him look down to see where Peter's feet are as they dance. He's clearly not had a lot of practice with it but Peter isn't about to point it out. Everyone's got to start somewhere, and why not start with the best? 

But when Stiles mumbles his response, almost mutinously, and then cuts himself off? Peter does notice that, and it definitely gives him a second's pause. He hadn't missed the implication either, and the knowledge that _this_ has been implied to be serious? Well... they've never talked about it before. Peter isn't sure what to assume, but he hasn't dated anyone else this long, and he does genuinely enjoy Stiles. Maybe it is serious.

"Well. I'm glad to technically be your first, then," Peter answers smoothly, leaning in to murmur into Stiles' ear as he leads him in a slow spin to the time of the music. "Put your other hand up on my shoulder. It'll be more comfortable. And _relax_. If you miss a step or two, it's fine. I can carry you through it easily."

* * *

Doo-wop. That's the kind of music this is, Stiles thinks. It's not actually bad, though. Stiles doesn't mind it. He actually thinks he might like it or want to listen to it again. It reminds him of floating on clouds. The music is light and fluffy and honestly charming? Stiles is of course doing nothing that resembles any of that. He's attempting to shuffle back and forth and _not_ step on Peter's feet because for all Stiles knows Peter could pretend that it actually hurt and then make a scene, or Peter could tease him. The second is probably more likely.

Stiles has just admitted that the previous times he's danced with someone hadn't been serious, implying that this was... That they are.... A part in Stiles' mind wants to vehemently protest on principle because this had started as a dare, as a game... But they've been monogamous. It had been discussed and agreed upon rather early on. They haven't dated anyone else. 

Before Stiles can get too worked up over it, Peter just replies, speaking into his ear and twirling him slowly (which is interesting because the murmur into his ear had caused a shiver to race down his spine, but then the spin had caught him off guard). Still, Stiles lets Peter maneuver him because he's pretty sure Peter won't let them look bad.

After Peter's instruction, Stiles relocates his hand to Peter's shoulder (the jerk could have told him that first, of course). And Stiles glances up at the command to _relax_ because Peter can carry him through it easily. 

"Confident are we?" Stiles tries to joke, but the whole _serious_ thing is nagging at Stiles, so Stiles ducks his head against Peter's chest, resting it there and probably prohibiting Peter from spinning him, but whatever.

Stiles sucks it up and kinda clings to Peter. His heart is beating too quickly, his hands getting sweaty. He's trying to ignore the realization that it's kinda nice to be able to depend on Peter to lead in this. 

* * *

Peter can sense Stiles' distraction. Honestly, it's not that difficult to point out. Stiles is hardly ever quiet, at least unless Peter's got him pinned to the side of a car, or a building, and starts kissing him. There's always a period of time between those first few kisses and the first few breaths or moans where Stiles goes absolutely quiet, like if he makes any sound, he might scare Peter away. It's ridiculously endearing and as Peter looks down at Stiles now, watching the color subtly spreading over his cheeks, he knows that Stiles is lingering in the same type of moment.

Had it been what Stiles had said? About being serious? Peter's curious, because Stiles had started to go quiet at around that point in time, but he can't be sure. He has to wonder how much he really cares anyway, as Stiles' joke falls a little flat, and then he's pressing in so close that it honestly gives Peter pause. 

Peter draws Stiles in close to his chest often enough, but he's never had Stiles rest against him. At first he thinks Stiles is hiding, but then he isn't as sure. He just watches, letting Stiles cling to him, and after a moment, Peter adjusts the speed of his steps. Instead of the easy slow dance and spinning, Peter slows the dance more to a slightly more casual rock, letting Stiles get used to the movements of their feet. Yes, he misses a step here and there, but true to Peter's promise, he doesn't let it show. Whenever he senses Stiles' balance shifting off of his own, Peter lifts him just enough to make it look seamless. Stiles really doesn't weigh anything, and he seems to be enjoying this.

"Too much?" Peter asks after a minute or two, as he might be an asshole by typical standards, but Stiles' pulse is quick and his palms are sweaty. And, contrary to popular belief, it's only fun to antagonize someone when they can tease him back. So it makes sense to check in. Stiles smells all right, but Peter wants to be sure.

* * *

Being close to Peter is nothing new, but this is the closest they've been in pubic (not counting him pinned against his Jeep because no one else had actually been around them). And then there's the whole dancing bit - more like swaying now - but still. Stiles would understand if he felt self-conscious because of where they are and what they're doing, but that's not the case here. 

He doesn't really care that the group of teenage girls are watching them - they're two good looking guys, why shouldn't they be watched? The older couple isn't really paying any attention to them either. They probably have at least ten or fifteen minutes until their food arrives anyway.

No, Stiles is just caught up in... In what exactly? That apparently things are getting serious or have been serious with Peter. Serious means feelings. Feelings mean love. Stiles has only been in love once and the had been more of an immature infatuation directed at Lydia. It hadn't been a two-sided thing, it hadn't been mutual.

Peter lets him stay like this and adjusts their so-called dancing. Despite the frantic thumping of his heart, Stiles isn't tense. He moves with Peter, stepping this way and that way. At some point Stiles' eyes have closed and honestly not watching Peter's shoes is freeing. Stiles doesn't even mind when Peter re-adjusts him when necessary.

When Peter asks if it's too much, the song is ending and Stiles distantly registers the couple deciding on the next song at the jukebox. Stiles shakes his head. 

"Nah, I like it... I like this," he adds on. _I like you,_ is on the tip of Stiles' tongue, but he doesn't dare say it. Stiles may have defended Peter to Scott, but he's never admitted to Peter that he actually likes him. It should be obvious.

* * *

If anyone in the diner had had the idea that perhaps he and Stiles were friends, or that he'd been (god forbid) Stiles' father or something, Peter's reasonably sure that those thoughts have been thoroughly dashed. He can hear the slightly-shocked murmuring from the teenage girls, who can't seem to decide if the age gap between him and Stiles is 'too much' or if they're 'just hot'. Peter can't help but be amused by the conversation, and by the attention, but he's finding more and more that his focus is leaving them and fixing itself on Stiles.

Because Stiles... Stiles is remaining close, his pulse racing, his palms slightly sweaty, but Peter can't smell distress or displeasure on him. Instead, Peter swears that he can smell a level of contentment; Stiles feels relaxed against his chest. When the song begins to come to a close and Peter asks his question, Stiles' answer is slow and a little dazed with warmth, and any concern that Peter had had leaves immediately. Instead he smiles, a smaller little tug of his lips as Stiles settles against him.

"It's relaxing," Peter says, glancing at the couple selecting a new song on the jukebox. Peter shares a quick look with them, and when the woman glances at Stiles curled against his chest, her smile warms and in mere moments, a new slow song is playing. She winks at them both and Peter ducks his head in thanks, and then he leads Stiles into a slow, swaying spin, his palm warm and spread out along Stiles' lower back. 

"I assume that you don't mind if I lead?"

* * *

It should be obvious that he likes Peter, right? It's not something that Stiles is trying to keep a secret. And no one would do a whole dating-slash-courting thing if they _didn't_ like the other person they were seeing anyway. Stiles likes Peter well enough. Peter's actually been a good boyfriend to him, but Peter doesn't need the ego boost (although every time they part doesn't Peter get one anyway?). 

Stiles doesn't need to tell Peter that he likes him. So, Stiles doesn't try and add on any thing else to his answer. One shitty thing about dating a werewolf is their keen senses of well, _everything_. Peter knows when he's embarrassed, flustered, turned on or even sad. Right now Peter knows that he's ... _Something_. Keyed up, but not necessarily in a bad way? 

Stiles doesn't know how to explain it. A lot is going on in his head. Stiles is aware that they probably have a few patrons watching them, but he doesn't exactly care. He's not embarrassed that he's being smooshy with Peter. He's also trying to not let himself get concerned over the times where Peter has to help him out in the dancing. What _is_ ricocheting inside Stiles' hand is the realization that things are maybe getting serious with Peter and does he want them to be? Can he stop it? Is it the same for Peter?

Peter's right, in a way this is relaxing. Stiles just holds onto Peter and Peter moves them, shuffling them along to this new song. This time when some sort of spin is attempted, Peter moves them both along in a circle. 

"Who'd lead if you didn't?" Stiles replies. "We'd be a hot mess if I was trying to do it," Stiles adds, a little amusement creeping into his voice. "We can stop whenever, though."

* * *

There _is_ something going on with Stiles, but there's rarely been a time where something hasn't been going on with him. Stiles, as Peter has commiserated with the sheriff over on many occasions, is often someone who thinks much too often. Stiles getting lost inside his head whilst attempting to solve a personal problem isn't new by any means, but Peter's not about to assume the worst. Stiles doesn't smell upset and while his pulse is quick, it doesn't sound distressed or panicked. He'll work it out on his own, or he'll reach a point where he'll ask Peter when he's ready. Peter isn't one to fret over possibilities, after all. 

Besides, he can tell that Stiles is enjoying himself. And while his dancing stamina might be lessening as the minutes progress, Peter's still glad he'd dared Stiles to do this, to give in. Stiles clinging to him feels comfortable, and despite whatever's happening in Stiles' head, he's pressed close and content, and he's not too far gone to joke. Clearly he's fine.

Still, even at Stiles' suggestion, Peter doesn't stop. He keeps leading Stiles on the floor, keeps swaying and showing him how to move. Peter rests his chin on Stiles' shoulder at one point and allows Stiles to do the same, and when the final notes of the song die out, Peter finally decides that it's enough. Their food should be done soon, and he doesn't want Stiles' mind to spiral too much. So, with a small smirk, Peter eases himself back, takes Stiles' hand in one of his own, and makes a point of leading him away from the dance floor.

And, on the way back, because Stiles won't be expecting it, and because Peter _can_ , he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Stiles' lips. After all that, Peter's reasonably sure that Stiles has earned that much. 

* * *

No, Stiles won't be attempting to lead them in a dance here. Maybe if they were in Peter's apartment, Stiles would take it upon himself to see how annoying he could be. He'd see if Peter would tolerate him being purposefully off time, or trying to make them do crazy moves. Things like that. 

In public, in this retro diner, Peter is more than capable of leading and hey, it's kind of nice to not have to worry about it. Stiles can trust Peter in this, so he does. He continues to pretty much nestle up to Peter and the music croons on and Stiles pushes his concerns from his mind. Now is hardly the time to think about it anyway.

And Stiles _is_ enjoying himself. It's cheesy as fuck to dance like this but hey, it fits the place and the mood, why not? They're here, the dancing is an available option, so why shouldn't they take full advantage of this date? 

But all good things must come to an end and as the song fades out, apparently their dancing is also over. Stiles' stomach gives a rumble, obviously excited about the prospect of their food getting arriving soon. Stiles swings his hand in Peter's (therefore swinging Peter's arm too). The random kiss that Peter gives him is new and catches him off guard. Kissing has always been reserved for their parting. Is Peter deciding to agree with him and do it more casually now? 

Stiles doesn't get a chance to return the kiss as he'd been too stunned. He'll get Peter back later.


	3. Spank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He then reaches for the next cup that has 'PETER' written on it along with an artistic swirl underneath which indicates that the customer had tipped well. Of course they're _supposed_ to make the same quality for every customer, but if the cashier wants to use code to indicate who's awesome and who's been a jerk, maybe Stiles gives the jerk decaf espresso every now and then...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A jumbo chapter (in comparison)! A little bit of everything this chapter & forward progression ~ (─‿─)

Given the fact that Stiles had so freely shared his calendar with Peter, scheduling anything becomes less of a nightmare. The idea strikes Peter a few days after the date at the diner, where they had both left stuffed with diner food carb-heavy enough that Stiles had fallen asleep while attempting to play with the dials in Peter's car halfway back to his house. 

Peter's poking around on his phone at the loft when he notices a later shift input into Stiles' schedule. Something must flash in his eyes because when Peter looks up, it's to the sight of Derek sending him a wary, suspicious look. To spare them both from mutual awkwardness, Derek smartly _doesn't_ say anything, and Peter is left to work things out on his own.

Four days after the diner date, later at night, Peter parks in front of a quaint little coffee shop that Stiles has spent long hours talking about during their dates. Sometimes Stiles complains about entitled customers or complicated drink orders - especially anything requiring him to do extra dishes - but sometimes he goes on about his regulars and his coworkers, and about how it's actually pretty nice to have a steady income. Peter looks up at the sign above the door to make sure he's actually in the right place, and then he walks into _Roasting Beanz._

The scent of coffee is immediately apparent as soon as Peter walks in, leather jacket half-zipped up his chest. A few people glance his way but mostly it's just the barista at the cash register who offers him a polite smile of welcome. She isn't Stiles, but it doesn't take Peter long to locate him. He's at the end of the bar, making drinks, his head down as he apparently does something complicated with whipped cream and chocolate sauce as far as Peter can see. Smirking, amused and oddly charmed at the sight, Peter steps up to the barista and places an order, giving her his first name when she asks, and with a bright smile (after his heavy tip) she nods him along down the line.

Stiles' shift might be done in a half an hour, but there's nothing that says that Peter can't go to Stiles' place of work on a whim, is there? Still smirking to himself, particularly at Stiles' obliviousness while he fills other orders, Peter waits patiently as his own gets closer. By the time Peter's order is up, Stiles still hasn't noticed him, and Peter finds himself almost wishing that he'd ordered something truly outrageous instead of a macchiato with the same whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Still, there's always next time. 

* * *

Dating Peter is... Well, it's definitely _something_. Stiles doesn't exactly know which word or words he'd go with. Interesting? Decent? Sorta sweet? Not all that bad? Fun? Stiles is pretty sure that when their little dare had begun, he'd expected Peter to not last. He'd assumed Peter would get bored. After all, back then, they had definitely moved past mortal enemies, but they weren't exactly _friends._ There was a favorable tolerance between the two of them. But for Stiles it had been logical to try and get over what Peter had done when he'd first popped up all crazed because Peter has experience and knowledge and both those things are essential.

Now they're friends. Stiles is pretty sure, at least. They haven't necessarily declared their status as friends, but Peter _is_ his boyfriend... And why is it stranger that he's more okay with Peter being his boyfriend than a friend? It's probably because Peter doesn't remind him of any of his other friends.

Peter's just Peter.

But Stiles does have a job because he needs to pay bills and he insists that he pays a little rent. It can't all be fun and games, right? So Stiles likes coffee and people, so he'd figured why not try his luck at this local coffee shop. It hasn't been a walk in the park to learn event and it's definitely more complicated than Stiles had first anticipated. But here he is, months later and he's rocking the steam wand now.

Be that as it may, today has been somewhat frantic and Stiles looks ever the picture of frazzled barista-boy. He's got chocolate sauce on his red apron and probably freckles of it on his skin that he hasn't had time to wash off. A cinnamon powder shaker exploded over him so he's also rocking that. Stiles' hair looks more like a mad scientist than messily styled. But he's off soon. The end is near. 

He then reaches for the next cup that has 'PETER' written on it along with an artistic swirl underneath which indicates that the customer had tipped well. Of course they're _supposed_ to make the same quality for _every_ customer, but if the cashier wants to use code to indicate who's awesome and who's been a jerk, maybe Stiles gives the jerk decaf espresso every now and then...

But because the name is _Peter_ , Stiles does look up at the next customer--

And it's _his_ Peter! Stiles stares only for a few seconds before he can't take Peter's insufferable pleased smirk at having surprised him.

Stiles busies himself in concentrating on making Peter's drink. Peter has never come here before. Stiles has juggled carrying trays of drinks to a pack meeting a few times - Peter's included - but that's it. Stiles is tempted to give him decaf, but he doesn't. Peter _had_ tipped, after all. He steams the milk to perfection and times the espresso just right and yeah, his tongue is sticking out as he adds the whip cream and chocolate drizzle.

The drink looks _flawless_. 

"I have a chocolate macchiato for Peter," Stiles calls out and smiles sweetly.

Peter may have surprised him, but he's not going to let the werewolf fluster him anymore. This is his domain.

* * *

Stiles looks heavily frazzled, but as Peter has begun to realize over the last few months, he's actually somewhat fond of Stiles' more eccentric traits. He doesn't think anyone else could pull off the look of chocolate stains and cinnamon explosion, but Stiles somehow wears both disasters like they'd been made for him. It's honestly somewhat charming, and while Peter _is_ here as a little surprise, (and to be eternally smug) he finds that as he waits for Stiles to come upon his drink, he takes real satisfaction in just watching him work. 

Peter is well aware of Stiles' clumsiness; he's caught Stiles mid-fall over a dozen times so far, and Peter can't count how many times that Stiles has accidentally run right into him, or smacked him while trying to gesture to something across the way. So that Stiles can channel all of those eccentricities - all of his clumsiness - into something that actually looks somewhat artful _is_ interesting. Peter watches him make drink after drink, watches his hands remain sure in a way that seems almost impossible considering how many times Stiles has spilled his drinks while at meetings. Oh, Peter's smirk never really fades; he's still very pleased with himself. But as he watches Stiles work, he has to admit that he's pleasantly surprised, and perhaps a little more than just slightly endeared. 

And then Stiles must get his order, because Peter watches as something shifts on his face. There's a flicker of something in his eyes that Peter can't catch, but then Stiles is glancing up. Peter's smirk widens, and while Stiles only meets his eyes for a few seconds, Peter feels inordinately pleased with himself. Stiles looks stunned (and maybe a little pleased) but to Peter's interest, he does actually make the drink without fuss. In fact... if Peter were going to hazard a guess, Stiles actually puts _more_ effort into it than he had for the people before him.

Plus, the sight of Stiles' tongue poking out _just_ so is far more endearing than it should be.

Peter steps up to the counter when Stiles calls his name, and while his smirk hasn't faded, it does take an edge of amusement more than smugness as he reaches out for his drink. He glances down, eyebrows lifting at how _good_ it looks, and when he glances back up at Stiles, he looks slightly impressed.

"Well, _someone's_ found his calling. It's truly fascinating watching you; I hope you won't mind if I stay close for the next, oh..." Peter glances at his watch even though he doesn't need to. "Half hour or so."

He shoots Stiles a quick wink, then lifts his drink and steps over to one of the stools close to the bar. It affords him the ability to keep an eye on Stiles; Peter quite likes it.

* * *

Maybe Peter came here to be a shit disturber, maybe he didn't. It's likely 50-50 with Peter. Either way, Stiles delivers a banging espresso beverage that is worthy of a social media post. Of course Peter is still smirking as if this plan of his is the epitome of an evil genius (which it's _totally_ not). Either way, it is actually _nice_ to see Peter. Under the disgruntled surprise, Stiles realizes that. It's kinda sweet that Peter has decided to drop by.

And Peter actually looks a little impressed by Stiles' drink which has Stiles beaming back, both proud and pleased. Despite Peter's comment, he doesn't think that this is his calling. No offense to baristas around the world, but Stiles doesn't want this - working at _Roasted Beanz_ \- to be his end game career. Not that he exactly knows what he wants to do yet, but it's definitely not this.

And apparently Peter plans on staying around until he's off. This gives Stiles mixed feelings because, yet again, kinda sweet, but at the same time, kinda irksome because Peter is all showered and clean and sexy and Stiles isn't. Stiles looks like he's been through a drink beverage warzone. Well, whatever. Peter will just have to suck it up!

Stiles sticks his tongue out after Peter winks and turns around with a flourish to get back to the next drinks that are his responsibility. When May is done at till, she shuffles over so she can talk conspiratorially with him (not that it's going to guard against a certain _someone_ from hearing it).

"That guy know you? He's cute."

Stiles snorts. Peter definitely doesn't need to hear this. Ah well...

"I'm _kinda_ seeing him," Stiles answers coyly, knowing that Peter is definitely going to listen in on this.

May grins and waggles her eyebrows before elbowing him playfully. Stiles knows she wants more deets. Insatiable woman. "Yeah, he's been infatuated with me for _years_ ," Stiles goes on slyly. "But he didn't want to be a pedo so he waited for me. Asked my Dad and everything. Really cute. Maybe even a tad pathetic..."

"Ooooo. That's almost scandalous, but I think it's more sweet," May replies, all smiles. 

Stiles simply smiles as he pours the steamed milk and calls out the caramel latte. Take that, Peter. 

* * *

Typically one of the best parts of being a werewolf is the fact that Peter doesn't need to strain to listen in on conversations. He's not an idiot; he knows that by doing what he's done, he's just painted a target of interest on Stiles' back, and on his own. All it had taken had been a good tip and May - the charming young woman at the till - had been fully interested in him, but seeing him talk to Stiles, and seeing the slightly-disgruntled expression on Stiles' face as Peter takes his drink and steps away? Oh, he knows that tongues will be wagging. He's counting on it.

It does go as he'd planned. Initially. The _issue_ is that Peter sometimes forgets that Stiles can be almost as devious as him. So while Peter does enjoy the little compliments, and the clear favor that this complete stranger keeps affording him, he is both proud and irritated when Stiles sweeps in and promptly derails that train of thought. It takes all of Peter's concentration to pretend that he's not listening as Stiles takes the reins, and he has to give a point where it's due. Stiles had _more_ than saved that one. Peter is proud, albeit disgruntled in turn.

Infatuated with Stiles for _years_. Peter tries hard not to roll his eyes. And he silently locks away a few choice phrases to bring back up when Stiles is no longer working, because really, Peter can forgive quite a few things, but the implication of him being a _pedo_ is something else entirely. Even to skirt around the idea, Peter considers a little payback of his own. 

But no matter how badly he'd like to spill his drink on Stiles' apron, he doesn't. It _is_ a good drink. Peter sips at it, feigning indifference, but when Stiles turns back around to call out the next drink, Peter makes a point of narrowing his eyes at him slightly. 

Peter glances at May just for long enough to ensure that she's turned away for the next customer, and he bides his time until there's no one else immediately in line. Then Peter meets Stiles' eyes and lifts one eyebrow slowly. Not blinking, he mouths, 'pedo? Pathetic? _Really?_ ' And yes, Peter has no issue with injecting heavy sarcasm into something he's not actually saying out loud. 

His expression says more than enough. It _also_ implies that this isn't over.

* * *

Okay, okay, Stiles is laying it on a bit thick, but hey, he can. He's in a position to be able to do it, so why not? Peter wanted to surprise him and Stiles is going to play along and surprise him right back. Fair's fair, fucker.

And it's not like May is helping the situation with her cooing over Peter's presence or whatever. It's totally unnecessary. Yeah, maybe Stiles would have done something similar if the position was reversed, but that's not what's happening here. Stiles is in the position where his boyfriend randomly paid him an unplanned visit. It doesn't feel so cute right now.

Said boyfriend doesn't seem all that pleased by the conversation he's just had with May. Stiles just smirks in amusement, his eyebrows waggling at Peter. Yeah, he might pay for this later (scratch that, he _totally_ will) but that's a problem for later! For now he's going to enjoy it. And how much does Stiles enjoy it when Peter mouths a few choice words back at him, as if seeking clarification of some kind? _A lot_. And the sarcasm and incredulousness infused in Peter's motions are totally picked up. 

Stiles makes the next order and it's only with May's blessing (or rather her insistence) that he leaves with a rag to go tidy up the lobby area and naturally pay his admirer a little visit! Stiles doesn't immediately make a beeline for Peter. He takes his time wiping down a few tables and the condiment stand (you know, doing his job), and then he goes over to Peter.

"Your drink taste good?" Stiles asks as he cleans the table next to Peter's.

* * *

Peter can admit a good slight when he sees one. He's spent years perfecting his craft, and what kind of man would he be were he to just ignore Stiles' contributions outright? Maybe if Derek had tried to do the same thing, it would have come to blows, but Stiles knows what he's doing. He's opening himself willingly up to punishment later, and Peter can appreciate such a bold move. Stiles knows well enough to watch his back, and as Peter sips at his coffee and watches Stiles interact with his coworker, he begins to think about what to do.

He dismisses the rather ruthless idea of telling Stiles' father in passing and leaving him to his fate. Peter might feel a little petty, but even he knows that that's a low blow. But as he watches Stiles step away and begin to clean the surrounding areas, Peter takes in the sight of his uniform - a little messy with chocolate stains and cinnamon powder, and definitely something that Stiles probably wants to change out of sooner rather than later - and Peter's lips pull into the faintest of smiles. It's not _overly_ late after all, and there's always time to get any number of things done.

So when Stiles wanders closer and cleans the table next to Peter, Peter looks him over with a low hum and arches an eyebrow slowly, pointedly. He hasn't made his mind up yet what he'll _do_ , but he can definitely think of something. 

"Mm. Yes. But then, considering how pathetically infatuated with you I seem to be, were you expecting any other answer? Why it's a wonder I'm not spreading you out on a table right now," Peter comments mildly, sipping again at his drink. "How many years have I been infatuated with you for again? Just to get the story straight?"

* * *

Of course Stiles has to step out and pay Peter a little visit. Stiles thinks this is great payback for Peter's sudden surprise anyway. If Stiles doesn't get to be prepared to meet Peter, Peter has to suffer in any way Stiles can manage. May doesn't know about werewolves and there's no feasible way for Peter to be able to call him out on his stretching of the truth. Finally, a win for the human!

Stiles is aware that he's still looking dishevelled as ever, but he's not going to stop doing his job just because Peter is here (and waiting for his shift to be over, Stiles hadn't forgotten about that). Rag in hand, Stiles watches Peter's eyes scan him over. Maybe Stiles should be embarrassed that he looks like he's battled many cappuccino foes, but he can't do anything about it right now. He's not always put together when he sees Peter anyway. Real life is kinda messy. 

Peter gets his revenge - or at least the start of it - because when he replies he just so casually claims that 'it's amazing I'm not spreading you out on a table' thing. Stiles' eyes widen because he can't help but think of how _that_ would be... Peter leaning over him, oh my god, and Stiles would be on his back on a table? That's pretty hot. Stiles' fantasy fizzles out when Peter effortlessly moves on and asks about Stiles' made up story. 

Clearing his throat, Stiles focuses on straightening a few chairs, trying to get himself back in order to be able to deal with Peter and these oncoming shenanigans.

"Oh, let's not get caught up in the details," Stiles says with a shake of his head. He takes a quick glance around the shop to make sure he doesn't need to go help, but the coast is clear still and May simply gives him a thumbs up so Stiles does sit down and join Peter. "What are we doin' after, huh? Huh?" 

* * *

Peter wonders idly if this is revenge enough, making Stiles come to such a satisfying halt in the middle of work. Peter doesn't need to breathe in deeply to note the slight shift in Stiles' scent, from cheeky and playful, to slightly aroused, but it isn't a burning need and Peter isn't about to press for it. He's said much worse to Stiles before, after all, especially the other night by Stiles' Jeep. Mixing it up keeps Stiles engaged, after all, and despite the chaste, pleasant moment at the diner, Peter definitely doesn't mind playing other aspects up on occasion. 

Watching Stiles awkwardly fuss with the chairs after makes Peter smirk, because he rather likes the distracted look on Stiles' face as he tries to tame his brain back into submission. Amused, Peter watches him work until Stiles finally comes over to him and takes a seat on the stool at Peter's side. Peter chuckles under his breath and lifts his cup to his lips, taking a pointed drink just to make Stiles wait for the answer he wants. 

"Well, you _did_ mention that movie you wanted to see last week, so I was tempted to take you tonight, but now I'm not so sure. I mean, after pressing your advantage like that, I'm wondering if I shouldn't take you somewhere a little more public. You're already dressed to be out, after all," Peter adds with a small smirk. 

But when he glances at Stiles, there's a note of teasing in his eyes. "But I _suppose_ we could go and see a movie together still _if_ I was convinced that you were properly apologetic about essentially calling me a pedophile. Doesn't really set the mood, does it?"

* * *

Stiles so totally doesn't need some fantasy of Peter doing _anything_ remotely sexual to him at work. Work has always been a Peter-free zone (other than Stiles texting him occasionally), but now Peter has infiltrated the Beanz. Still... It's kind of nice that Peter has stopped by. While plans are all practical and allow Stiles to try and get prepared to handle Peter, there is something inside of Stiles that will always crave spontaneity and enjoy it.

They hadn't had plans tonight, but now that Peter is here and Stiles is almost off, it only makes sense that they do _something_. Peter had surprised him and now Stiles will surprise Peter and assume that some sort of date is going to happen.

The mention of a movie, and Stiles is perking up. He honestly hadn't expected Peter to remember what he'd been babbling about last week. The little comment about _him_ being dressed to go out has Stiles rolling his eyes because he does have a different t-shirt to put on and he would check his appearance in the mirror before venturing out to de-chocolate and de-cinnamonize himself. 

"Let's just watch something at your place," Stiles suggests as he doesn't feel like going out and dealing with _more_ people. He then playfully kicks at Peter's shoe. "And it does sets the mood if I want you to punish me later," Stiles says airily, eyebrows waggling as he gets up.

* * *

This is admittedly something that Peter enjoys about Stiles: he's spontaneous. When thrown a curveball, his instinct isn't to recoil and complain. It's to meet it head on and discover what he can throw back in response. Peter can respect a man who can think so quickly on his feet, and when Stiles' expression brightens at the suggestion that Peter makes, Peter knows he's scored a few points despite his impromptu drop-in. Admittedly there had been the possibility that it could go badly, but Peter's pleased to see that Stiles had seemed to enjoy it. 

Still, when Stiles just up and invites himself over, Peter snorts softly in laughter and lifts an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't argue. He's fine with Stiles inviting himself over. Peter doesn't exactly like the idea of going out to a theater himself, but he knows that Stiles typically likes going to see movies. Peter usually needs to wear something in his ears to negate how _loud_ the damn things are, but seeing Stiles' excitement had been worth it in the past. But a movie back at Peter's place? He can do that.

He's gearing up to say so, his mouth already opening when Stiles kicks his shoe and then adds on that _last_ little note. Peter's mouth closes, though not in shock. Instead his gaze sharpens as he looks at Stiles, almost like the playful little suggestion has taken on a different meaning for Peter. He makes no secret of it as a small smirk touches his lips and when Stiles stands up, Peter reaches out and catches his wrist. 

Lifting one eyebrow, Peter presses his thumb to the hollow of Stiles' wrist and then slowly draws his hand over. Making eye contact, Peter leans in and presses a kiss to the soft skin along Stiles' inner wrist, just barely a touch. His smirk in that moment is positively wicked. 

"Those are dangerous thoughts to be putting into my head. Make sure you really know what you're asking for, Stiles."

* * *

Stiles says it as a joke. Mostly. He doesn't even know what it might all imply, but he's heard the word thrown around in porn clips and whatnot. Usually it's over the top, all leather and whips and chains, and Stiles has watched with wide eyes as he tried to consider whether or not he'd ever be into that kind of thing. How's he supposed to know? He hasn't even had sex yet. It's all speculation at this point. 

Stiles has thought about _a lot_ of potential scenarios and while they can be hot in his head, there's no guarantee reality will turn out that way. Since dating Peter, all his fantasies have been slanted toward Peter. Why would Stiles think about someone else when he knows it's likely going to happen with Peter. A few first's have already been with him.

It's only when Stiles sees Peter's answering smirk is he slightly worried that maybe he's opened up Pandora's box or something. Stiles is all set to get back to work, but Peter catches his wrist and Stiles looks down at the simple touch, his heart speeding up. Peter's grip is light. Peter's skin is also hot. And when Peter leans in, his mouth coming to Stiles' wrist, Stiles can't help but remember Peter's question about the Bite, ' _yes or no_?' Peter had asked him--

Stiles gasps when Peter kisses his wrist. And Stiles has nothing to say. What is he supposed to say? Peter has caught him off guard. Completely. Stiles can't be thinking about _any_ of that kind of stuff right now either. He hears May giggling and that's what gets him going. 

"Yeah, yeah..." Stiles mumbles as he shuffles away. 

* * *

It's the memory of Stiles' sudden racing pulse and the flush of scent that hits Peter as Stiles reluctantly pulls away that gets him through the next few minutes. Stiles' shift is close enough to being over and Peter definitely doesn't mind waiting around now. Maybe May sees him as a pedophile, but Peter's not the one half-distracted and flushed. 

Peter doesn't think he's imagining the way that Stiles keeps touching his wrist through the rest of his shift, and he's fairly sure that May notices as well. She's a smart enough girl, then. Peter makes a mental note to be a little less obvious in front of her, but her hushed teasing and little nudges to Stiles' side definitely mean that Peter has to hide his smile in his cup a few times. He doubts that's earning him many favors.

But, seeing as Stiles' shift is only a little while longer, Peter sits in his satisfaction over polluting young minds. When the shift does end, his coffee has long since grown cold, but he'd had enough of it that he doesn't even mind. Instead, when the clock ticks down, Peter rises pointedly and Stiles seems to snap out of whatever daze he'd been in. All it takes is a lift of Peter's eyebrows for Stiles to hasten into the back to grab his stuff. Peter smirks, nods politely at May, and then gestures to the door. She nods, flashes him a quick thumbs up, and Peter ducks outside, leaving Stiles to get himself ready.

He walks over to his car and unlocks the doors, but instead of climbing inside, Peter turns and sets his hip against the driver's side door. He's fairly sure that Stiles' father had driven him in based on the hour he'd worked to, but Peter's not sure. If not, he can either let Stiles drive to his place, or just take him home in Peter's car and then drive Stiles in here the next day to retrieve the Jeep. It's a simple enough matter. 

* * *

Yeah, it's not a very smooth exit, but Peter has a very disarming smirk, okay? And Peter had kissed his wrist, the same wrist that Peter's fangs nearly bit into those few years ago. Stiles knows that he's rather easy to get going, too. He's young. He's horny. It's a thing. Peter's hot. Peter's available, but Peter is making him wait for it (after Stiles told Peter that _he'd_ needed to wait for it).

Stiles has a suspicion that he may be in for a surprise later. Still, he tries to throw himself into the closing routine. May doesn't make it easy, however. She keeps giving him amused looks and surreptitiously whispering questions or making little comments about Peter. She wants more juicy gossip, but Stiles isn't exactly prepared to go along with the tale he spun. He eventually gets her to lay off with the promise of filling her in later.

May sees Peter out, flipping over the closed sign and locking the door. Stiles hurries to the bathroom, slipping off his apron and stuffing it into his bag. He digs out a faded but soft grey t-shirt. It's nothing fancy, but Stiles hadn't planned on going out after. Before he changes into it, Stiles regards himself in the mirror and gets to washing the chocolate and cinnamon off of him. Once he looks clean, he's exchanging his work shirt for the t-shirt. Stiles tries to wet his hair and make it look presentable, but he doesn't try for too long. 

With a wave and a parting comment that he will go into more detail later, Stiles says goodbye to May and heads out. He sees Peter waiting and Stiles' stomach does a weird happy flop and he tries to not smile too wide because it's _just_ Peter. 

"I'll let my Dad know that I don't need a ride," Stiles supplies as he makes his way to the passenger side. Once settled in, Stiles pulls out his phone and sends the appropriate text.

* * *

It doesn't take Stiles too long to step out of the cafe, and while Peter does feel a little more settled when he catches sight of Stiles dressed in his usual fashion, he's a little sorry to see that the apron is no longer on him. Peter breathes in and while Stiles has clearly tried to wash some of the cinnamon and chocolate off of him, he still smells sweet. Peter's tempted to reel Stiles in just because he can, but then Stiles smiles at him, wide and actually delighted, and Peter goes still, somewhat caught off guard. 

It gives Stiles enough time to duck in behind the car in order to go for the passenger's seat, and Peter rolls his eyes at his own ridiculousness before he turns and pulls the driver's door open. Stiles is already getting settled and pulling his phone out and Peter chuckles to himself as he slips into the car. He turns the car on and pulls on his seatbelt, but Peter still waits for Stiles to finish sending the text before he reaches over, curls his fingers in Stiles' shirt, and pulls him in for a quick kiss.

He'd done it in passing back at the diner, breaking their previously-established rules. Why not continue the tradition? Besides, as Peter draws back with a small smirk on his lips, it's to the look on Stiles' face, and Peter's pretty damn pleased with himself. Leaning back in his seat, Peter reaches over, flicks the radio on (because Stiles still loves to fuck with his presets) and then he pulls back out onto the road. It's not too far to Peter's apartment, and he doesn't anticipate the drive being _that_ eventful.

Even so, glancing sidelong at Stiles as he drives, Peter can't quite help himself. His smirk grows slightly. "Much as you do look good, I have to admit... I do miss the apron. It adds a certain professionalism to the look."

* * *

Stiles can still remember the first time he'd gotten into Peter's car and how weird he'd felt. He doesn't feel that way anymore, however. Peter has given him plenty of rides now and while Stiles _likes_ driving and he definitely likes his Jeep, it's kind of relaxing to not have to be in control of their vehicular destiny and whatnot. Plus, it's still fun to try and find new ways to annoy Peter. Can Stiles really he blamed that Peter looks adorable when he's irritated but trying to rise above it?

The surprise kiss... is a surprise. It seems like kissing is now not an 'only done when parting' type of thing. Stiles can get behind that! But that means when Peter pulls away, Stiles does look a little stunned. So sue him, it's still new-ish. Later, Stiles totally plans on initiating a kiss to get Peter back. (And Stiles doesn't know if he should be nervous or excited at that idea.)

Of course, after it, Peter is just all calm and collected and Stiles has gotta hand it to him, Peter does confident and sexy so very well. Stiles hopes one day he can manage to be like that too. The comment about his apron yanks Stiles from that line of thinking. 

"Oh yeah?" Stiles gives a chuckle, grinning. "I'll keep that in mind, then."

The rest of the drive is unremarkable, but still comfortable. Stiles' stress from work is gone by the time he's entering Peter's apartment. He kicks off his sneakers before looking over his shoulder at Peter who's leisurely slipping off his coat. 

"So you couldn't wait until our next scheduled date. Missed me too much?"

* * *

The drive _is_ surprisingly comfortable, though most of Stiles' little habits are still present as Peter drives. He still fiddles with the presets, still bounces his leg whenever he gets excited about what he's talking about, and he still plays with the windows for a few seconds until Peter combats it by locking Stiles' control over the window usage from his end. Even so, despite the little touches of immaturity and playfulness, it's a pleasant drive. They talk on and off about Stiles' day at work and Peter learns a little more about May and how much Stiles likes working with her. Peter files that away.

It doesn't take long to reach Peter's apartment. Stiles goes up first, knowing the way, and Peter makes sure his car is locked before following suit. He unlocks his front door when he gets there, though even as he slides the key back into his pocket, he gives it an odd look, as though contemplating. Perhaps... he'll think about it. 

Peter's just hanging his leather jacket up by the door when Stiles speaks up and the little quip brings a small smirk to his lips. Peter locks his door behind them and takes off his shoes, lining them (and Stiles' shoes) up by the doorway. Then he follows after Stiles and makes his way into the kitchen.

"Just an aching, _burning_ need, yes," he drawls, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, because nothing goes against stereotype like a bottle of water. "Besides, I'm being spontaneous. You _love_ spontaneity. You just don't like to admit it. You get bored otherwise. Do you want anything to drink?"

* * *

Stiles remembers when he'd believed that Peter had lived in an underground network of caves hidden deep in the woods (because don't monsters live in caves?).

But Peter isn't a monster. Not anymore at least. Stiles understands why Peter had been on a revenge rampage now. And Stiles isn't even so sure that he could say that he would have done things all that differently even. A fire, an attack, men, women, children burning alive, you barely escaping, you locked in your own head was you attempt to heal. Yeah, that would leave some lasting scars that werewolf healing couldn't touch.

Stiles teases Peter about the impromptu visit but Peter's right - Stiles _does_ like spontaneity. Stiles doubts that Peter actually missed him all that much - they still text often enough and they had a date planned for tomorrow anyway. He follows Peter into the kitchen and it strikes Stiles that now is his opportunity to kiss Peter. Peter is looking at him, no one else is around. 

Stiles is staring. He knows he is. He knows he should answer the question, but instead he just rushes forward like a zombie with a speed boost and awkwardly places his hands on Peter's shoulders and tries to kiss him.

* * *

It really is a simple question, but when Peter looks over at Stiles and takes note of how bright his eyes suddenly are, and how Stiles keeps looking from his face, to his shoulders and then back again, Peter straightens out and regards him with subtle curiosity. He recognizes Stiles' _mischievous_ face and he knows that Stiles is planning something. _What_ he's planning is the mystery, but Peter just watches him curiously, waiting, and it honestly doesn't take Stiles long to decide on what he wants to do.

Still, Peter's not really expecting Stiles to just up and look so determined and then _run_ at him. One eyebrow lifting as Stiles darts at him, Peter half-braces himself before reminding himself that this is _Stiles_ , and Peter's far quicker than Stiles is anyway. He figures it out a half a second before Stiles' hands grab his shoulders, and then Peter can't pretend that he's not amused as Stiles leans in, looking for all the world like he's a man on a mission to save that world.

So, naturally, with a smirk that he can't quite hide, Peter turns his head at the last second so that Stiles collides with Peter's cheek instead. Peter reaches out and winds his arms quickly around Stiles' waist and uses the momentum to spin him around (so that Stiles doesn't collapse against him and break his nose; Peter wouldn't put it past him). Then, because Peter _can_ be an ass, he tightens his hold, holding Stiles to his chest. Stiles can likely feel Peter's smirk against his cheek, where Peter presses a chaste, amused kiss. He's not above being an asshole when the situation suits him.

"There's 'spontaneous' and then there's 'parkour'. I'm pretty sure _that_ was the latter. If you're trying to catch me off guard with a kiss, might I suggest waiting until I'm properly distracted first?"

* * *

Okay, okay, Stiles knows that he's not being very smooth here. It's not his problem that he's inexperienced in this. There's only one way to get experience anyway and that's by doing. This is Stiles doing. And maybe he sucks at it, maybe he should have tried to saunter over, but Stiles trying to act confident and suave seems like a harder task to do compared with just going for it.

So, he gone for it.

It is a risk to take because Peter can easily and effortlessly stop him. Stiles' mission is detoured when Peter decides to decline him by way of turning his head and Stiles' lips brush against Peter's cheek instead of his mouth. Strong arms wrap around Stiles and he's pulled in close, into a damn _hug_. He knows he's going to catch shit for this and he's definitely not looking forward to seeing the smirk that he knows Peter is wearing.

It's Peter who gives him a peck on the cheek and then comments about his failed attempt. Stiles huffs. It's easier said than done to distract a werewolf. Stiles is pretty sure he's not supposed to use wolfsbane in such a manner, for example. 

"And would distract you, Mr. Wolf?" Stiles asks as he tries to wiggle free, purposely grinding against Peter's crotch (hey, it might distract Peter!). "Pretty difficult to ever sneak up on you."

* * *

Stiles clearly isn't very happy about his attempts being thwarted, but Peter's perfectly happy by it. There's something to be said for Stiles' petulance whenever he doesn't get his way; he's honestly somewhat endearing, especially after having been so bold. Peter can respect an honest effort, even if it hadn't been subtle in the least. He's considering saying as much, considering giving Stiles his due, when suddenly Stiles braces his feet against the ground and uses that momentum to squirm up against Peter's front.

The intent is _very_ clear. Stiles grinds up against him and Peter twitches slightly in surprise. It's not that he's against it, but there is a time, a place, and _pacing_ for something like that, and this isn't it. He doesn't really think about his response, doesn't give much thought to the way he knocks a knee between Stiles' legs to force him to spread them, and only briefly considers the intelligence of bringing his hand down, but it's almost instinctive. 

Peter's palm catches Stiles' ass on a quick swat of reprimand. It's nothing with any power behind it, just something to distract him. All the talk of 'punishing' earlier had clearly gone Freudian, and Peter's more amused by his own reaction than annoyed by it. He quickly recovers.

"You _are_ fiery after a long shift. I can respect that," Peter says idly. Then he bends one arm behind Stiles' back and - bracing him properly - he leans in. It's a quick motion - a small dip in which Peter bends Stiles over backwards to catch his lips in a quick kiss. Just to say that he could. Then he straightens, pulling Stiles back up with him, and finally lets him go. "You'll figure something out. You're clever enough. Now... drink?"

* * *

Despite the possible threat inherent in Peter holding Stiles and prohibiting him from doing something (like kissing or escaping for example), Stiles isn't worried that Peter is going to actually hurt him. Stiles actually has to hand it to Peter. Despite his strength, despite his speed, Peter hasn't injured him. Even pinned to his own Jeep, Peter hadn't been overly rough.

Not that rough is necessarily bad... Stiles is pretty sure he'd like a little roughness anyway (not that that seems like it's going to be happening anytime soon, _sigh_ ). Even if he's wiggling to be annoying, the rubbing against Peter's crotch is... Effective. At least for Stiles. Before anything can really happen, Peter's knee is spreading his legs and Stiles' rhythm is quickly lost.

And then Peter--

Peter actually spanks him! It's more of a surprise than something that hurts, and it feels like Stiles' brain short circuits because he thinks he might actually--

But Peter is talking and calling him fiery and then smoothly Stiles is dipped back and Peter kisses like some suave ass motherfucker from a movie. Stiles doesn't even kiss back. He's too stunned. Peter easily stands him back up and then lets him go. Stiles is half hard and despite Peter giving him an out with the drink, he knows Peter can smell it and see it if he glances down. Great. 

"No... no thanks," Stiles mumbles out. Maybe Peter will just think he's turned on from the kiss, right? Maybe that's actually what happened anyway. "Living room. That's where I'm going," Stiles adds on before awkwardly turning and heading in that direction.

* * *

Peter does smell Stiles' arousal. It's not like it's really new, and Peter's not surprised to smell it on the air. Stiles often holds a slight level of arousal on his skin (that spikes whenever Peter gets closer, so Peter always takes it as a compliment) and besides, Peter had kissed him directly after Stiles had been rubbing up against him. Letting Stiles go now, noting his wider eyes and the flush already stolen across his cheeks, Peter's not surprised by the added scent on the air.

Lifting his eyebrows in lieu of any further admonishment, Peter waits for Stiles to reply, and when he does, Peter bites back a small huff of laughter. Stiles sounds a little dazed, definitely shaken, and if his arousal is anything to go by, Peter foresees a very interesting night. 

Despite not going far (if anywhere, really), Peter does love to rile Stiles up. Stiles makes it _easy_ , after all, and now that they've established that kissing can happen anywhere, well... is Peter not supposed to use that to his advantage? Exactly. 

Still, Peter lets Stiles head to the living room first. He does go back to the fridge and grab another bottle of water (and a beer), and though Stiles hadn't asked for it, Peter does take a minute to quickly make him a sandwich. He knows Stiles' eating habits by now, and he _knows_ that Stiles rarely eats well when he's at work. A PB&J isn't exactly the dinner of champions, but it's better than nothing. Peter plates it for him, and when he makes his way into the living room and sees Stiles sat somewhat awkwardly on the couch, Peter smirks.

Walking over, Peter sets both bottles of water down on the coffee table with Stiles' sandwich, then sets the bottle of beer down on the side table closest to him. Peter takes a seat next to Stiles on the sofa, and there's no hesitation as he reaches out with an arm and drapes it over the back of the couch, just behind Stiles' head. It's comfortable like this.

"Knowing you, you probably haven't eaten in a few hours. Any preference on movies while you eat?"

* * *

By now, Stiles is pretty used to being perpetually turned on in Peter's presence. Now, agitation or embarrassment sometimes kill it and those states aren't exactly uncommon in dealing with Peter. Stiles is aware that he's the one who's set up the conquest of his virginity and Stiles is fine waiting... Waiting builds anticipation, but he'd kind of thought that by now, seeing as it's been months, that some _other_ stuff would have occurred.

Like a blowjob. Or a _real_ handjob. Or some nakedness and writhing against each other kind of thing. That would be great. The point is that they have options. It doesn't need to be all out legit penis in the hole sex-sex. 

Things have been moving forward these last two weeks, however. Stiles _did_ get off with Peter rubbing against him and pulling his hair a little. Legit dirty talk has occurred. Kissing can now happen more casually. These are all good signs. Forward progression! But can Stiles expect or hope to get off again soon with Peter? Stiles wants Peter to get off too. Mutual getting off'ness, please. Maybe he'll bring it up tonight. Maybe that won't go bad...

Stiles plops down on the sofa, all these variables and what if's flying through his brain like the evil monkeys from Wizard of Oz, taunting him. Squawking at him. He tries to ignore them because Stiles needs to formulate a legit plan of attack here versus spring it on Peter.

Speaking of Peter, what's taking him so long? Stiles fidgets and wonders if he should send an annoying text to Peter but then Peter's finally showing up, bearing gifts for Stiles - a sammich and water. The thoughtfulness has him brightening and immediately reaching for the food once it's placed down. 

"I'll have you know I ate a muffin," Stiles grumbles and takes a bite. PB&J. It's a classic. After he swallows he adds on, "Porn. Obviously. That's what two guys should watch together."

* * *

Peter isn't really concerned when he sits down next to Stiles. Stiles looks like he's a few thousand miles away in his mind, and Peter wouldn't be surprised if Stiles is trying to diabolically work out how to get into his pants. It's an interesting little quirk of Stiles' mind; the more that Peter makes him wait, the more interested he becomes in pushing. It's a nice little back-and-forth that Peter's slowly grown to enjoy. Maybe this had all started out with a bet - a dare, and a promise of virginity - but Peter's grown to genuinely like the game. Stiles is good fun, too. Peter likes spending time with him. More than he likes spending time with anyone _else_. 

So when he sits down and Stiles immediately falls on the sandwich like he hasn't eaten in hours (muffin be damned), Peter smirks to himself and leans back on the couch. He reaches out to open his beer with a flick of his claws, wedging the cap off easily, and he hums his acknowledgement as he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a sip of it. He can't get drunk, but Peter _does_ like the taste on occasion. It's not his go-to, but it _had_ helped Stiles to reconcile the 'big bad wolf' with 'normal guy' at the beginning. 

What Stiles _suggests_ is enough to make Peter chuckle. Oh, Stiles is bold. He'll give him that. It's endearing if nothing else. Peter glances down at him with a small smirk. 

"So... Netflix Original, then." He'll take a dig at the content where he can. He enjoys it, but Peter still finds it amusing that Netflix has decided to act like a child escaping from its parents grasp. Teenage rebellion at its finest.

"If you want to watch _real_ porn, I won't be held accountable if you make a mess of yourself."

* * *

Stiles is pretty sure that no one actually _owns_ porn in the 21st century. VHS? Porn DVDs? A thing of the past. Pay per view via satellite and the Internet is where it's at. But it's not like it would exactly be difficult to hookup Peter's laptop to the TV screen via an HDMI cord and find porn to watch, but then there's the issue of _what_ to watch. Would it be gay or straight? Would it be raunchy? Would it be themed? Would it be some lame scenario about a plumber?

Stiles had suggested it to be funny, but now that he's musing over it, he actually thinks it would be pretty awkward. What are the chances that they would even _like_ the same type of porn? What if they discover one of them has some strange fetish like being tickled with a feather boa? What if one of them was into it but the other wasn't? There are a lot of what if's to consider, but Peter just chuckles at his suggestion and Stiles is pretty sure nothing is going to come of it. Stiles just munches on his sandwich as Peter chides Netflix's penchant for showing skin. 

But the snide comment about him making a mess if he was to watch real porn has Stiles elbowing Peter. "Hey, just because you think I'm easy with _you_ , doesn't mean I'm _always_ easy," Stiles says, mock affronted. "Just put on some random comedy special?" Is what he follows it up with. "I don't feel like making decisions." After a long day, this is a common feeling within Stiles.

* * *

Stiles is thinking. Peter can't exactly _smell_ Stiles' decision making, but he does know the way Stiles' mind works by now, and the little pinch to his brow is enough to get Peter's attention. He's been with Stiles for long enough to know how obsessive he can get, and as much as the suggestion _had_ been a joke, Peter knows that Stiles is thinking about it now. Peter isn't exactly _against_ the idea of watching porn, but he knows that Stiles is over-complicating it in his head. But then, Stiles is rather neurotic when it suits him. It's endearing by times.

So when Stiles quickly elbows him and replies, almost offended (fake as it is) Peter just smirks at him, reaches over for the remote to the flatscreen on the wall, and turns on the TV. He quickly finds a comedy network and while it's not _really_ Peter's thing, he does flick it on and then leans back, setting the remote back down. He has other ways of entertaining himself.

Namely Stiles. Stiles still smells like arousal, and it's a heady, sweet, cloying scent that Peter focuses his attention on. He knows that this hadn't been planned; their _real_ date is for tomorrow, but he can't help being satisfied that he'd gone to get Stiles from work. Peter sips at his beer, half-watching the show, but as he reclines casually, he eventually does let his other hand drop down, fingers brushing over Stiles' shoulder. Peter doesn't make it blatant because it's not supposed to be; he just trails his fingers casually over the long line of Stiles' throat, his thumb stroking over the beating of Stiles' pulse with a casual focus. 

"For the record, I don't _think_ you're easy with me. I _know_ you are," Peter says simply. "But I like that about you. It's refreshing that you know what you like."

* * *

Stiles knows that comedy isn't Peter's thing, but it is his. He enjoys the witty ways comedians can word things. He likes their hilarious anecdotes. More than that, Stiles enjoys laughing. Given everything he's went through, dealing with the monster of the week or month, his own stuff, Stiles knows that laughter is good. Humor doesn't fix anything, the world is still kinda shit, but it's good to take a break and not be too serious.

Stiles also wants to be distracted, so he leaves the porn gutter of potential possibilities because he doubts that anything more is going to happen tonight. Apparently kissing can now happen, but only if Peter initiates it. Go figure. 

As Stiles eats the sandwich, he wonders what would happen if he retracted his challenge-slash-dare about the whole courting thing. Would they do it then? Have sex? And if they did, would Peter even bother with him _after_? What if his virginity is a part of his major appeal?

Peter's touch is what tugs Stiles out of his concerns. The touch is light, fingers grazing over his shoulder - over his shirt - but when those fingers skim over his throat and over his skin, Stiles fidgets, keenly aware that goosebumps are popping up on his arms. He side eyes Peter, but of course, Peter looks all casual, like what he's doing isnot a big deal. Peter gives him a rebuttal - insisting that he knows Stiles _is_ easy with him and Stiles just snorts, not planning on giving him any attention after such a remark.

But then it hits him. Peter is actually wrong. He sets the plate aside and turns to face Peter. "Actually, how am I supposed to know what I like when I've barely done _anything_? Shouldn't you be teaching me? Kinda like a perk for dating someone _experienced_ ," Stiles shoots back, using air quotes on the last word. But he doesn't stop there, he rushes ahead, unable to help himself. "And what if I suck when we finally do it? What _then_?"

This... This is worse than being awkwardly aroused.

* * *

Peter's not _intending_ to start a conversation. It's just the facts. Stiles is aroused around him a good ninety percent of the time at least, and that last ten percent usually has something to do with work, his father, or being asleep. Peter can excuse a lack of interest in all three situations; he's not really sure he'd be comfortable with Stiles' arousal if it happened next to the sheriff as well. Still, there _are_ moments... but this isn't one of them. This is casual banter and an idle back-and-forth based on evidence. Peter hardly gives it any attention.

Except then Stiles' pulse speeds up and he sets his plate aside. Peter glances curiously at Stiles, and while he is expecting a rebuttal, he isn't expecting the... _scope_ of Stiles' response. 

Unbidden, Peter's eyebrows lift. Well... he _supposes_ that technically Stiles is right about the whole 'not knowing what he likes' thing, and Peter's not sure if he should be offended at the air quotes around 'experienced' (he's _plenty_ experienced, thanks...) but before he can chime in, Stiles rushes ahead like a cat trying to escape a bath. Somewhere along the line, his scent sours a little bit, turning from general Stiles awkwardness to something bordering on real concern or uncertainty. 

Peter blinks. He hadn't expected that. 

"You're not going to _suck_ ," Peter says, half-dry, and still half-surprised. "At least... not in that way. Sex isn't that complicated, Stiles. You're overthinking it." Which... honestly doesn't come as a surprise, knowing Stiles. Peter rolls his eyes. "We find each other attractive, you're sensitive and you respond to me well. Maybe you won't last the longest when we _do_ have sex, but I'm not expecting you to. And if there are awkward moments or if you fumble, that's what practice is for."

* * *

This hadn't been Stiles' intention, but he can't say he's even surprised that things have just so happened to turn out this way. Stiles' brain has long been known to cause spontaneous trouble so this isn't really anything new. By now this can't even be all that shocking to Peter either. Peter looks cautious, a little taken aback, but not like, shaken to his core (although Peter's never looked like that around him). 

Peter insists that he's not going to suck and Stiles isn't so sure he believes him. Peter may claim that it's not complicated, but Stiles has seen some shows of skills that have left him bewildered. It does feel good to hear Peter acknowledge that that _both_ find each other attractive - that's a plus. But sensitive? Responding well to Peter? He almost sounds like some science experiment. _Subject shows a sensitivity to one Peter Hale..._ The mention of him not lasting long - and Peter simply _expecting_ it - has Stiles glaring. Like, fine, it's probably true and all, but does it need to be said aloud?

He shifts gears at the mention of _practice_. That shows promise. "Okay, fine, but why aren't we practicing _now_?" Stiles inquires, his head tilting to the side as he considers Peter. "For example, I think I might have liked you spanking me. But I don't know because but that was just once." 

Stiles doesn't get embarrassed by mentioning this. He's on a mission here, it helps him focus. 

* * *

Stiles has always been a little odd, but it strikes Peter every now and then that he really can be neurotic when he sets his mind to it. He's not sure when it happened _this_ time, but Stiles has undoubtedly decided that something is wrong. Peter glances over at the TV, at the comedy skit playing, and he sets the remote down uncertainly. He doesn't really want to have a conversation with Stiles about this while there's someone yelling on the screen about 'rednecks'. 

So when Stiles seems to latch onto what Peter had said and immediately goes for it, Peter blinks a few times, still somewhat caught off guard, but it's easy enough to focus on _this_. Stiles asking him about practicing is nothing new, but when Stiles goes on and mentions the _spanking_... well. That's a little different. Peter shifts, his fingers falling somewhat uselessly to Stiles' shoulder, but it's worth it to get a better look at Stiles directly. 

"Oh," he says, like suddenly a certain _something_ makes perfect sense. Mostly because it does. The level of Stiles' arousal makes sense. Peter sends him a curious look. He hadn't really thought about the spank as anything other than something playful to do in passing, but if Stiles had been aroused by it, Peter isn't really surprised. If anyone would get something out of it, it would be Stiles. 

"Well, you asked me to court you. Typically courtship doesn't really take 'practicing' into account. At least... not immediately."

* * *

Stiles has seen spanking in porn. It can be a simple quick swat and not the entire focus at all, or like the whole clip of someone's bottom getting whacked red with a palm and/or various implements. Sexuality, porn, fetishes or kinks or whatever the proper word is... All of it is freakin' _expansive_. It's vast. Stiles love research, yeah, but that's like an iceberg he doesn't know if he wants to sail too close to. 

Oh, who's he kidding, of course he wants to poke at it! Stiles wouldn't be Stiles if he wasn't curiously bumbling on ahead, driven by his inquisitive and spontaneous nature. 

Focusing on maybe figuring out if he actually _likes_ spanking is easier than trying to digest Peter's reassurance over the impending sex because Stiles still isn't so sure that it's going to go fine. Okay, yay, they're both attracted to each other, that's good. But Peter had called him _easy_ and _sensitive,_ and Peter expects him to not last long either.... That doesn't exactly sound like a great memorable time for someone like Peter.

His suggestion has caught Peter off guard. Peter looks at him and Stiles looks back, trying to not let himself feel ridiculous over this. 

"I know what I said," Stiles says, his hands fidgeting in his lap. "And it's not like we're waiting until the wedding night. At some point things have to change." It's then that an idea springs into Stiles' head because he's perking up. 

"I _dare_ you to spank me, Peter," Stiles then cheekily murmurs.

* * *

It's not like Peter can't understand impatience. He'd been Stiles' age once as well, and he knows that if he'd had someone opting to _court_ him instead of fucking him, it would have been a drain on his patience as well. The difference is that Stiles had asked to be courted, and who is Peter to disagree? It's been fun and engaging, and he _likes_ Stiles, for all their differences. Still, Peter can't fault Stiles for his pushing. It's just a matter of figuring out how to introduce a little more sexuality into their outings.

After all, if Stiles _wants_ to get off, Peter's not exactly adverse. He'd gotten Stiles off against his Jeep. Peter's no saint - although he'd look fetching depicted in religious art. 

But Stiles' hands are fidgeting with each other, playing across his lap in a nervous fashion. Peter glances down at them, then back at Stiles, who looks a little torn, a little uncertain. He's considering a conversation, maybe asking Stiles to explain what he'd be comfortable with, but before Peter can really follow that thought through to the end, Stiles perks up and Peter's eyes narrow suspiciously. 

The challenge makes him stiffen, but Peter doesn't think he can be blamed. He blinks down at Stiles, as if expecting him to change his mind. _Spanking_ isn't where he thought this would go, but it's not like he doesn't understand a desire to explore certain kinks to see if they exist. Peter just... isn't sure this really _fits_ the notion of 'courtship'. 

...on the other hand, Stiles _had_ implied certain things at his job earlier that evening. Maybe spanking won't be such an odd idea in retrospect. Peter considers him. Then, quite plainly, he reaches for the remote and mutes the TV.

"I'm not spanking you with the comedy channel playing in the background," Peter deadpans. "But if you _want_ to be spanked, who am I to stop you? Find a position you like. Over my lap, straddling me, bent over the couch... take your pick."

* * *

Huh. He's just dared Peter to spank him. This is happening. Stiles has also voiced his concern (issue?) in wanting to do _more_. Because traditional courtship leads to marriage, doesn't it? And he's pretty sure that's not where they're headed to. It's not that he thinks this is a nothing-relationship... It's just that they haven't ever had some real serious conversation about them. Stiles has never dated for the sake of dating. He's never thought it was a great idea to date someone if you don't see some future with them, but he understands that some people don't want to be alone in the now _or_ be thinking that far in the future and this did start out as a dare.

Stiles' major concerns about the future have simply been everyone staying alive and being in touch. Thankfully, the drama in Beacon Hills has calmed down some. The stakes haven't been incredibly high as of late and Stiles is super glad. That means he can simply enjoy being his piddly human self, going out to movies, going on dates, catching a game with his Dad...

Peter's first response is to blink at him, apparently this is also something that has surprised Peter. But Peter doesn't laugh at him or pull any faces. Peter merely mutes the TV and yeah, Stiles can understand Peter's desire to not have stand-up comedy in the background.

Over Peter's lap? Straddling him? Bent over the couch? Options. And he gets to pick.

Stiles can't even figure out how the second position would work. Stiles hesitates a moment before or he's climbing on to his knees and then crawling over to Peter. Peter doesn't make it awkward, he simply helps Stiles lay down across his lap. Peter can undoubtedly feel that he's a little hard, but whatever. Stiles tries to relax, his arms tucking under his head.

"Don't..." Stiles begins. "Don't make fun of me if I like it."

* * *

Peter's not going to make it awkward. Even if he wasn't a werewolf, he'd know better. He can sense Stiles' tension in the rigidity of his movements, because even though Stiles has dared him to do this, that doesn't mean that Stiles is fully comfortable with it. It's a big deal, a rather hefty decision to make. Peter can respect Stiles for pushing himself, but he's not going to be an ass about it. 

So instead, when Stiles moves to lay down over Peter's lap, Peter shifts a little to make it more comfortable. It still seems like he's skipping a few steps in the meantime, but Stiles is game, and Peter _had_ thought about ways to get even for the whole pedophile thing earlier. This isn't so much a punishment as it is an exploration of interest, but it still _looks_ like one. He'll take it. 

Peter reaches over for another couch cushion and gets Stiles to move his arms, letting him fold his arms over the cushion _and_ the armrest of the sofa for added comfort. Peter looks down the long line of Stiles' back, admiring the sight, and while he can feel Stiles' dick pressing against his thigh, Peter doesn't call him out on it. Instead he reaches down and lays one hand over Stiles' ass, touching appreciatively. Peter's not a saint, after all.

But... Stiles' little comment makes him frown. He glances sidelong at Stiles, and while he can't really explain _why_ that bothers him, it does. 

"I'm not going to make fun of you for what you like or don't like. You liking it is kind of the _point_ , Stiles. That's what experimenting is all about. But if you decide that you don't like it, tell me and I'll stop. Simple as that."

And it is. Peter may be many things, but a prude is not one of them. He's not one to shame people for their kinks (aside from Scott's _gag-worthy_ infatuation over any woman stupid enough to flutter her eyelashes and put up with him). So when Stiles looks comfortable, Peter doesn't keep him waiting. He can hear how fast Stiles' pulse is. 

"First one," is all Peter says, because warning Stiles for this one at least is polite. He pulls his hand back and delivers the first strike right where his hand had been. Over Stiles' clothes, not _too_ hard, but definitely hard enough to feel. Peter tries to ignore the interest _his_ dick takes at the position. It's not really about him as much as it is Stiles.

* * *

Stiles is laying across Peter's lap and hoping today doesn't blow up into some awkward-as-fuck situation. It strikes him as the type of thing someone _could_ really get burned on. Not that Peter seems like the gossiping type. Stiles isn't really expecting Peter to use this against him, but he's pretty sure most people who end up in such a predicament hadn't expected future retaliation via someone exposing something private about them.

It's too late to go back now. He's settled on Peter's lap and Peter helps him get _more_ settled or at least comfortable with the addition of the pillow. 

Peter doesn't begin right away. Despite being fully clothed, Stiles is essentially laying out on display. He doesn't know if the picture he makes is that great though. How could it be? He doesn't have like curves or a big ass (he doesn't think so anyway).

Peter's hand comes to his ass anyway and Stiles does get a little excited. It's Peter touching him, okay. Stiles is always down for that. Hearing this most recent reassurance does actually reassure Stiles. Still, he's anxious - not bad anxious, just on the edge and waiting anxious. Peter warns him for the first one and the his ass gets swatted. He jolts out of surprise, but he's definitely not turned off from it and it hadn't even hurt that much.

"Okay, yeah," Stiles gasps, squirming. "I like it." He takes a steadying breath, enjoying the feel of his cock pressed against Peter's leg, but more than that, enjoying that they're trying this at all. 

"You can do harder. Or maybe with my jeans down?" Jeans down would take padding away, but maybe that's moving too fast? Stiles has never had any clothes off in Peter's presence, but would it _technically_ be off if they were just pulled down a little? He doesn't think so and he's willing to argue semantics if need be.

* * *

There's nothing wrong with a little extra sensation during sex. Granted this isn't really _sex,_ but considering how far Peter has let this courtship go, it might as well be. He breathes in the scent of Stiles' arousal, thick and sharp on the air, and while the first spank hardly makes Peter's palm tingle with the impact, it's a safe bet to start a little slow. There _is_ the added complication of his strength. He could punch through a concrete wall if he tried, but there is such a thing as regulation of strength and he's not a monster. He's not looking to hurt Stiles, merely to help him open his eyes to new possibilities.

He doesn't need Stiles' gasp to tell him that spanking is apparently on the _approved_ list, though Peter does wonder if just putting his hand on Stiles' ass might have been enough. Much as he'd teased Stiles about being easy, Peter does know that denial and teasing makes small things seem monumental. He doesn't regret his choice in the least, particularly not when he can feel Stiles squirm against him and watch his muscles relax. Stiles might not see the appeal in his appearance, but Peter does. 

He draws his hand back, and he's contemplating another swat when Stiles pipes up, a little breathless, and Peter stills thoughtfully. Pulling Stiles' jeans down might be a little forward, but Peter can't deny that there's definitely a part of him that isn't adverse to the thought. Hell, being able to feel the warmth under his hand with every hit makes the idea worth it. Peter nods slowly, considering.

"All right. Lift up," Peter says airily, and gives Stiles' ass a little tap in order to get him to lift his hips up. Stiles does, albeit a little slowly; Peter suspects that he's shocked that there hadn't been an argument. Peter reaches down and with quick fingers, he undoes Stiles' belt, button, and fly, and then works his jeans down just enough to bunch below his ass. Stiles' boxers _definitely_ frame his ass better than his jeans had. Peter smirks his approval.

"Going to go a little harder. Again, tell me if it's too much." It's adequate warning, but Peter doesn't think he can really be blamed by the way he aims a solid spank against the curve of Stiles' ass. Maybe he's not striking skin, but the sound it makes is satisfying, and he hardly waits more than a second before he does it again, harder, to the cheek he'd spared the first time. Equal opportunity and all.

* * *

Stiles has never asked Peter what he smells like when he's aroused. Would he even want to hear the answer? Stiles knows that Peter _does_ scent him. He thinks it's a werewolf thing (but he's never going to ask Scott, that would be weird). Peter doesn't _only_ lean in and smell him when he's aroused, however (and usually Peter is rather subtle about it anyway). 

Stiles doesn't feel any shame for liking this. At least not right now. He's sort of in the moment and it's new. Peter hasn't given him any indication that he doesn't like it either. And, surprisingly enough, Peter actually agrees to the whole pull down his jeans thing. Stiles is all too eager to help by lifting his hips up and Peter gets right to it, cunning fingers undoing his belt, button and fly despite their position. 

The jeans are worked lower, and Stiles isn't wearing any fancy boxers. Well, fancy for him are any boxers that are actually patterned or fun. These are just navy blue cotton boxers, nothing interesting, but it's still further and more if they're exposed to Peter. Stiles tries to resist fidgeting, but it's rather difficult given that this is exciting and new. Another warning is given and knowing that it's going to be harder and his jeans are pulled down, has anticipation climbing.

Then the next spank comes and it is harder (duh). It stings but before Stiles can figure out if he likes it still, his other asscheek is hit. Stiles cries out. He doesn't know if it sounds manly. He's sure it's more of a surprised sound than one of pain, however. Stiles thinks he's panting. He's breathing faster and through his mouth. Is that panting? Maybe. Who knows. He's not going to ask Peter about that. He's still turned on. That's Stiles' next realization. He must like this then, right? 

"It's good still," Stiles murmurs shakily. "I like it."

* * *

_God_ , that sound that Stiles makes is like music to Peter's ears. Yes, it's a cry, and yes, it's a little clipped and surprised, but that's what makes it so good as far as Peter's concerned. It's _genuine_ and honest, and Peter can appreciate Stiles vocalizing when he's feeling good. Peter suspects he is anyway; Stiles doesn't sound or smell distressed, but Peter can definitely make out his arousal on the air, sweet and spiced and something he's definitely considered indulging in on more than one occasion. 

In a way, that's what this is. Maybe it's not inherently sexual, but it's definitely leaning in that direction. Peter doesn't have to touch Stiles or get him off after this - or during it - but there's no way that he can pretend that this isn't sexual in nature. Plus... Stiles has a _great_ ass. Peter's more than pleased to be touching it, even if each touch is a slap instead of a good feel. Peter isn't bothered.

"You know, I thought about doing this at your work, as punishment for your little _comment,_ " Peter muses thoughtfully, letting Stiles' ass rest for a few seconds just so the full sting and tingle can overtake him. But, maybe as if to counteract the words, he reaches over and the fingers of his free hand thread into Stiles' hair, petting idly, encouragingly. Peter lets him feel it for a moment, but when he delivers his next series of spanks, it's to one cheek, each one making his palm tingle pleasantly. Peter wets his lips. 

"But I think I like this better. This way, only I get to see you. Charmed as I'm sure May would be."

* * *

He's letting Peter spank him. Stiles had actually _dared_ Peter to do it, even. It's not a joke-thing either. It's a 'let's explore possible things that I like' thing and they're doing it _together_. Of course, this is occurring after Stiles has sort of has a pseudo meltdown and spilled out some of his concerns to Peter. Concerns about being good and not knowing exactly what he likes (because there is _a lot_ out there).

Stiles thinks he's fully hard now, but it's kind of difficult to tell because he's laying down on his dick. He can actually feel that Peter is hard and Stiles really wants to wiggle against it, he wants to touch, but it's a challenge to do _anything_. His ass tingles with sensitivity, but Stiles feels energized, warm, and a little bit sweaty. He breathes deeply.

And then Peter speaks, all cool as a cucumber and yeah, Stiles remembers his snarky comment about how he was possibly setting the mood for _punishment_. Fingers suddenly pet through his hair and Stiles _mm's_ softly. His _mm_ turns into a sharp gasp when Peter suddenly spanks him a few times and Stiles shudders as he processes the pleasured pain. 

"I don't want - don't want May to watch me like this," Stiles grits out as he adjusts his head on the pillow. "You deviant... Thinking about other people right now." 

* * *

This is definitely edging into 'sexual' territory, and a part of Peter is a little curious as to whether or not he should be allowing this, but he _had_ gotten Stiles off against his Jeep awhile ago and really, it's not like sex hadn't been the goal at the beginning. Whether or not it still is is another matter entirely. Oh, Peter doesn't doubt that Stiles has slotted _him_ as the person who is definitely going to take his virginity, and the thought does send a small thrill of sensation zinging through him, but there are other things to be focusing on right now. Namely on how good Stiles feels against him, how he sounds, and how enticing the feeling of Stiles' hard cock pressed against Peter's lap is. 

He's fine with the edge this is taking, though he's still careful not to push too far. Despite his idle, unconcerned manner, Peter watches Stiles closely for any sort of hint that Stiles might _not_ be all right with this. Thankfully Stiles looks like he's almost surprised himself with how much he likes this, and Peter can understand. Stiles' scent is sharper like this, and Peter really does enjoy being able to touch him. He _also_ enjoys the way Stiles' muscles tense when he gets spanked, and Peter ensures that he can see a little _more_ by pushing Stiles' shirt up slightly.

But, most importantly, Peter doesn't miss the way that Stiles goes a little boneless when Peter pets his hair. He files it away as he runs his fingers through it again, gentle, almost coaxing - a solid counterpoint to the way that Peter's lips tug into the smallest of smirks and he rubs his hand over the back of Stiles' boxers to soothe his skin before going back in for a slightly sharper spank. Yes, _Peter_ is the deviant here...

"Not so much thinking of other people as much as thinking about how jealous they would be were they to see you like this, with me. I know you get self-conscious about yourself, Stiles, but believe me when I say that people would be _gagging_ to be in my position right now."

* * *

Stiles definitely doesn't want anyone to see him like this. He's got his jeans pulled down, hair getting messy and he can feel that his face is hot. And he's so crazy hard that Stiles doesn't know if it's just because it's Peter and he's apparently easy, or if he's just really into this. Both are feasible options. He's laying over Peter's lap like a child and Peter is spanking him. Okay, it's definitely not the weirdest thing they _could_ be doing, but considering that - until the time against Stiles' Jeep - they haven't been doing anything overly sexual. Just kissing. 

But like this, Stiles can feel that Peter is hard too. He doesn't know if Peter is aroused because he _likes_ spanking or if it's because Stiles is into it. Either way, it's a good thing because Stiles doesn't want Peter to just be tolerating this. Nothing sounds worse than that, actually. Stiles _wants_ Peter to be into it and more specifically, into _him._ Because they've invested a lot of time into each other and Peter is, more than likely, going to be the one to take Stiles' infamous v-card. 

It _is_ a little surprising to realize that he's actually really into this, but it's hardly the most shocking or crazy activity to be into. Stiles isn't like, kink shaming himself over it. So what, he likes spanking? There are far stranger kinks - and anyway, different strokes for different folks, right? And it feels good-tingly when Peter's palm simply rubs over his ass. Stiles is wondering if they might go further than this and actually work his boxers down, but the idea of his dick being directly against Peter's clothes and in turn, _Peter,_ seems major. 

When a sharper spank follows, Stiles squirms from the spike of pain. It's still rather interesting that the sensation of discomfort can cross over into pleasure, but here it is.

Peter's reply is... It has Stiles getting incredulous and slightly embarrassed because he's pretty sure other people _wouldn't_ be gagging to be in Peter's position. Maybe a few. 

"Yeah, sure," Stiles mutters after a moment, not knowing what else to say. Stiles takes a deeper breath in and decides to be a little bold by purposely grinding his hips against Peter's thigh. 

* * *

Peter isn't exactly surprised that Stiles seems to find it hard to agree with him on this front, but that's hardly Peter's concern. He can see the way that certain people look at Stiles when they're walking together. And despite the way that Stiles sees himself - awkward and gangly the way he had been when he'd been sixteen - Stiles has grown into himself over the years. What had been gangly limbs and knobbly knees have been solidified by a toned muscle and good definition, and Stiles' abdomen has hardened a little over time, his muscles forming better after he'd been allowed to train a bit with the pack. He's fit, and people definitely notice.

But Peter doesn't stress this. If Stiles doesn't want to think about it, Peter won't make him. Besides, feeling the way that Stiles begins to grind down against Peter's thigh, feeling the hard poke of Stiles' dick against him, Peter considers what to do. Then, because Stiles is in the perfect position for it, Peter draws his hand back and gives Stiles a solid spank across both cheeks, hard enough that they'll likely be pink for a few minutes. Peter presses his hand against Stiles' ass, rubbing as though to soothe the sting, but he also makes a point to press Stiles down a little, keeping Stiles in place.

"Is this something you'd like to do again?" Peter wonders out loud, and seeing as he's got Stiles pinned, Peter flexes one of his thighs, feeling Stiles' cock press harder against it. He's not above teasing Stiles, especially after Stiles' concerns over sexual compatibility and skill. 

* * *

It hurts. It doesn't feel especially good, at least not in any traditional straightforward way. Stiles knows that Peter could legitimately hurt him and beat his ass raw if he wanted. Stiles doesn't know what level of force Peter is even currently using. Does he want to ask? Get Peter to rate the force on a scale of 1 to 10? Not really, no. Stiles knows it's not _that_ bad, it might not even bruise. For it _to_ bruise, Peter would need to hit harder or a lot more. Stiles isn't exactly against gaining some bruises from this altercation. He hasn't really thought about it, but it's possible that he might like them and maybe Peter would too.

Stiles doesn't care that he's pretty much shamelessly trying to rub his erection against Peter's thigh. His grinding does halt after Peter spanks him decently hard and Stiles cries out from the suddenness of it. Breathing quickly, Stiles' toes wiggle as Peter's palm pets down his stinging skin - but the force is _also_ enough to keep him still. Huffing in displeasure, Stiles stops trying to thrust his hips forward.

_'Is this something you'd like to do again?'_

He snorts at the question, but Stiles is unable to give any real reply because Peter purposefully flexes his thigh and it has the intended effect - a tease of pleasure going through Stiles. He shudders, dick throbbing while his ass still smarts. Stiles tries to thrust against Peter's leg but he's unable to do so. With a frustrated groan, Stiles decides to answer. 

"Yes, yes I'd like to do this again, I'd also like to get off. Can that happen tonight?"

* * *

For a man as strong-willed as Stiles, forcing him still definitely doesn't endear him much to Peter, but Peter isn't really concerned with that. He watches with a measure of amusement and arousal in his eyes as Stiles cries out and then goes still, but that spark of arousal grows when Stiles shudders on top of him. Peter can feel it under his hand, the slight tension in Stiles' body, the closer edge of pleasure, and his lips pull into a small smirk, clearly satisfied.

He _could_ string Stiles out, could keep him like this, could deny him quite easily. But as Peter listens and Stiles finally does answer him, Peter mulls over the possibilities in his head. He could just stop and leave Stiles throbbing in more ways than one, but as Peter looks down at him and drinks in the frustrated groan that Stiles lets out, he has to admit that he's not quite as interested in just letting Stiles go. Instead, after a thoughtful pause, Peter presses Stiles down a little again and then - using his hand on Stiles' ass - Peter presses down, manually grinding Stiles' hips down against his thigh while he flexes it up against the hardness pressed against it.

"That depends on whether or not you think you could get off like this," Peter says conversationally. "I'm not going to have you grinding down against me haphazardly. But if _I_ get to choose when or if you get to come? That's another matter entirely."

* * *

Stiles _does_ want to get off tonight. It kind of feels like, now that he's had a taste of what an orgasm with Peter feels like, he can't help but want another and another and another... It's not his fault that his sex drive is raring to go. Vroom, vroom, Stiles wants to get laid. Be that as it may, Stiles knows that's not going to happen tonight or even any time soon. Stiles may want that but even he knows he's not necessarily ready for it. He's barely done anything sexual with Peter anyway. They can't jump to the end.

Peter doesn't seem to be in any rush to reply immediately. Stiles licks his lips and tries to gather himself or calm down, but it becomes practically impossible when Peter both pushes his ass down and flexes his thigh and Stiles struggles to get more friction, but it's difficult given the position and Peter's grasp.

Stiles is _almost_ taken in by Peter's words because on one hand it's like a challenge (and he likes challenges) but there's something about Peter's words - stating that Stiles' grinding had been done _haphazardly_ \- that kind of irks Stiles and sours the mood. Why is him responding naturally a bad thing? Why does it need to be regulated? He can't help opening his mouth. 

"Why does it have to be on your terms?" Stiles asks, the previous fight dissipating as he sags against Peter. "Why can't we both just get off because we want to? Why do you have to be in control the whole time?" The questions pour out and Stiles has a feeling that he's messing this moment right up.

* * *

Peter honestly doesn't think anything of it. This is the way they have acted for months - challenges and dares and working quite well in that way. So his words simply follow that general theme and he doesn't think anything else of it. Stiles smells aroused, Peter can see the tension in him as he considers, and that's all that really matters. But just as Peter is preparing to guide Stiles down into another grind, he stops. Stiles' scent sours.

The rush of questions is unexpected and they're enough to draw a frown onto Peter's lips. For a moment, he's silent, somewhat caught off guard, and as much as Peter _had_ been planning on getting Stiles off, he draws his hand away, no longer pinning Stiles in place. 

"All right," Peter says decisively. "Enough of that."

He slides his hands under Stiles instead, helping him get up. And while the sight of Stiles as aroused as he is _is_ enticing, Peter doesn't focus on that as he helps Stiles to carefully sit up against him instead. As an afterthought, Peter reaches behind and pulls a blanket from the back of the couch, using it to drape over Stiles' shoulders, to give him extra privacy. 

"Being in control is my preference. But if this was bothering you, you should have brought it up with me before. Is this about earlier? Your worries over not being good enough?"

* * *

Stiles doesn't want to put up a stink here. He already feels a little embarrassed for his earlier word vomit about his concerns about practicing and sucking in bed. And with his ass out and stinging and his dick still hard, now hardly seems like the time to bring up potential concerns.

And it's not like Stiles _doesn't_ like what was happening or what could have happened. Oh, man, Stiles wants Peter to spank him more and push him down and be getting him off. Honestly, he really doesn't mind Peter taking control because Peter's only made him feel fucking fantastic anyway. But it's dawned upon Stiles that he hasn't really been able to touch Peter _back_ and if they're actually dating, shouldn't that be a thing?

Peter decides this current position won't do and helps him sit up. It's a little awkward considering Stiles' jeans are down by his knees, but he makes it work. His ass is also a little tender. The blanket that Peter gives to him helps Stiles feel less awkwardly exposed. Stiles feels uneasy as Peter addresses him so he looks down, his hands grasping on the blanket.

"It's not that I _don't_ like it - because I do, obviously," Stiles begins, stilted. "I just want to... You know, touch you too. Like a real couple would... And they'd _both_ get off. It's mutual." Stiles' cheeks have heated up from his admission. 

* * *

Peter looks down at Stiles, curious, his expression mild. It's not blank because he doesn't want Stiles to think he'd done anything wrong, but he also doesn't make an effort to push Stiles one way or another. Instead Peter listens to him, and while Stiles does seem to be taking refuge by distracting himself with the blanket that Peter had pulled over him, Stiles still does voice what he'd been thinking. His scent is still sour, and it strikes Peter odd that he doesn't like it. Stiles has apparently grown on him over time.

The knowledge that Stiles _does_ like what they'd been doing sets aside a few concerns, but when the meat of the issue finally comes to light, Peter raises both of his eyebrows and looks down at Stiles incredulously. He catches sight of the heat on Stiles' cheeks, on the way he can't quite meet Peter's eyes, and though Peter does make sure to mute the sound, he lets out a single breath of a laugh, feeling some of the tension bleed from his shoulders.

"Is that all? If you want to touch me, you're allowed to. Ideally in a courtship it's one person leading; I assumed that you would prefer that. If you _don't_ , provided that you pace yourself, you're allowed." Peter eases his arm away from his lap, glancing sidelong at Stiles. "Are you all right?"

* * *

Stiles doesn't want to think that this is going to be like, the straw that breaks the camel's back or whatever. It can't be, right? He doesn't think that this is some huge deal, but who knows? This isn't a traditional normal relationship but Stiles doesn't really have any real relationship experience anyway. Maybe Peter will get pissed that he's somewhat randomly voicing all these concerns tonight and that he's ruined the moment - and the moment _had_ been good. _Shit_. 

Peter's response is a small chuckle and this has Stiles glancing up on instinct. But it's not a cruel laugh by any means and Peter doesn't appear perturbed by what Stiles has said. Peter's actually all casual and calm about it and Stiles' eyebrows furrow because Peter makes it _seem_ so easy and fine. Stiles had tried to kiss Peter earlier and that hadn't turned out (then again, he'd had zero finesse). It seems like this is the first time they're really having a talk about _them._

"I know what I said - what I dared you to do," Stiles starts after he licks his lips. "And you've done everything pretty much flawlessly. You've really taken a shine to courting me, winning my dad over, impressing both him _and_ me." He pauses as his hands release the blanket and he shrugs it off, letting it fall behind him. This doesn't seem like something he should say while nestled in a blanket. 

"I want us to date. Legitimately." 

Ball's in Peter's court now and Stiles doesn't look away from him. 

* * *

A bit of casual fun, a fling, Peter's heard the mutters among the pack. Yes, it's common knowledge that he's 'seeing' Stiles at this point, but Peter's relatively sure that Derek thinks it's just for sex, and Scott hasn't stopped suspecting him of ulterior motives since the beginning. The others are an offhanded mix of not caring and suspicion, which Peter supposes is fair. But that's all that this has ever really been, at least metaphorically put on paper. They go on dates, but despite the _look_ of it, and the way that people act, they're not _dating_. It's not official as they've not had a talk outside of smugly flexing their sarcastic muscles or gently teasing one another.

But it looks like that's going to change now. Peter doesn't really understand the determined look in Stiles' eyes until Stiles pushes off the blanket. It leaves him looking a little exposed - his tented boxers notwithstanding - and the change on the air is enough to ease Peter's smirk down into a slightly uncertain smile. The praise isn't necessary (but Peter still likes hearing it) but Stiles clearly has something _else_ on his mind. And when he voices that 'something else', Peter just looks down at him, quiet, because the last piece of the puzzle clicks into place.

Stiles _likes_ him. It's not just for a bet, or a series of dares, or to find someone to lose his virginity with. Stiles' worries earlier that evening and his uncertainty suddenly make sense. He hadn't been worried just due to pride. He'd been worried because he'd not wanted to disappoint Peter, _or_ himself. 

It is... both a lot and not a big deal to think about, but Peter does afford it the thought it requires. At first, he's expecting to turn Stiles down. The words are already on his lips. Then he realizes that there's no emotion behind the potential rejection, because... really. How is what Stiles is asking for now any different than it had been a mere few seconds ago? Peter's smile fades, but he does look at Stiles thoughtfully.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" Peter asks, and while his tone holds the idle, conversational lilt he's known for, it is also more serious. "If you just want sex, you don't need to date me for that. I'm about twice your age, and Scott wouldn't approve. Is that something you really want?"

* * *

They've been going on dates. They've not been seeing other people, but any of the so-called 'rules' had been established early on and under the pretense of the courtship-dare. And honestly, Stiles had just wanted to be a jerk and challenge Peter. Because if Peter was going to go through with this and court him properly, Stiles had wanted to deny Peter the ability to blow off any steam with anyone else.

Stiles knows he's _thought_ of Peter as his boyfriend. He's always argued that it just made sense because what else would he have labeled Peter? Partner? Special someone? Those are horrible. His Dad refers to Peter as his boyfriend and while the shoe fits - at least in _actions_ \- Stiles knows that they haven't had a real serious conversation about them. 

Until now. After he delivers his potential game-changing statement, Stiles' pulse climbs as Peter looks at him. Courting with the end goal of virginity conquering is one thing. It had been fun. A challenge. It's not anything touchy-feely or serious. It's not Stiles admitting that he actually _likes_ Peter and that things have changed for him. 

But they _have_ changed. Stiles can't exactly pinpoint any particular moment. If anything, it had probably been a bunch of moments where he'd actually enjoyed himself with Peter and realized they got along. Stuff like that. The big question is, have things changed for Peter? 

Peter is no longer smiling and Stiles swallows past a growing lump in his throat. Being asked if he's _sure_ isn't what Stiles is expecting, however. And when Peter goes on, mentioning that dating isn't a prerequisite for sex (duh obviously), their age gap (it's not _that_ bad) and that Scott wouldn't approve (so what?), Stiles rolls his eyes, clearly finding some confidence because Peter _hasn't_ shot him down and he's pretty sure it's a good sign that Peter is bringing up these potential issues.

"I'll have you know that I'm well aware of our age difference and that I don't _need_ to do anything. I also don't _need_ my best friend's approval - I've been putting up with the lack of it already," Stiles replies. "But I do _want_ to date you and I _do_ like you... So yeah." He gives a little shrug, some of his bravado clearly dwindling. "But if it's not the same, we should probably stop this."

* * *

It's different. On one hand, being with Stiles for a bet is safer because the obligation there isn't nearly as pressing. But as Peter looks down at Stiles and watches his bravado swell and ebb, he realizes that things really _have_ changed for Stiles. Peter's not sure when it had happened, but it had, and this isn't the outcome he'd been expecting from his little visit to Stiles at his work when he'd set out earlier. 

There's a part of Peter that does want to turn this down, but even he can recognize that it's the part of himself that continues to remain wary about pack life. Casually dating Stiles due to a bet is one thing; Peter's still on the outskirts. But dating him for real has different ramifications and Peter finds himself going over those in his mind as Stiles launches into his response. And as much as Peter wants to point out that a rift between Stiles and his best friend likely isn't a _great_ thing, he honestly doesn't like Scott anyway, and Stiles' pulse sounds sure.

So when Stiles trails off uncertainly, Peter weighs the final options in his mind. Then he reaches one hand over and gently touches under Stiles' chin with one finger. Peter nudges his chin up and spares him a single glance, then leans in. 

He kisses Stiles softly. It's not a peck of affection, or a deep kiss aiming to rile Stiles up. It's softer, slower, and something that even Peter feels out as he does it. As with everything that he's been doing with Stiles as of late, it feels right. So when Peter breaks the kiss, the first thing he does is nod. 

"I just wanted to make sure you'd thought about this. If you have, and if you're sure, I don't see any reason why we shouldn't date for real."

* * *

On some level Stiles does appreciate that Peter is concerned about the ramifications of them actually dating. No one else had known about the bet, so everyone had already assumed it was real. Still, he's pretty sure that both of them had downplayed it whenever it had been brought up. Going forward - if they do go for this - Stiles can see that changing, however.

On a positive note, because Scott _hadn't_ known about the bet, he's been getting used to the idea this entire time. Stiles has fielded countless questions and accusations from his best friend about Peter. It's not fun by any means, but Scott has been getting better and, at the end of the day, he's dating Peter and not Scott. This is Stiles' life and Stiles doesn't want to let other people - no matter their intentions - dictate what he does or who he does... Or who will eventually do him. All the doing, hopefully.

Peter may not answer him immediately, but as soon as Peter's fingers come to Stiles chin, Stiles knows it's a _yes_. Before an ecstatic relief can funnel into him, Peter is kissing him and this time, Stiles kisses back. It's not like any of their other kisses either. And Stiles doesn't know how it can feel so different - because their mouths are the same - but it does. It's languid and more sweet, maybe?

Still, when Peter pulls away it is nice to hear Peter agree. It's a start - _their_ start.

"For real, for real," Stiles replies, a tentative smile appearing on his face. This time, when he goes in to kiss Peter, Peter doesn't stop him.


End file.
